


Pastel Skies

by RadiateLove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Romance, modern fairytale, solution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25163200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadiateLove/pseuds/RadiateLove
Summary: His mark. Her scar.20 years post Hogwarts/Voldemort’s demise, Hermione and Draco are thrown together on a business venture. What starts as a surprisingly easy friendship, soon turns much more than that.Mature Dramione. Romance / Solution / modern fairytale.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Acknowledgements  
Thorsten Stefan Jung. Here’s to you. My inspiration, my muse. This is how I wished things would have been. You will always be in my heart. I loved you.  
Carl Corry, Thank You from the bottom of my heart for your tremendous support, the brilliant ideas and of course proof reading. Please feel a fierce hug. I am proud to have you as a friend.  
Brian E Millar, you are a gem for giving Angus an authentic Scottish voice. Truly, thank you!  
Marc Jones, thank you for helping me with pint sizes and how much Draco would be able to drink. Party on Hufflepuff!  
Jessica Bock, thank you for reading my smut and pointing out where I went wrong. Thank you for encouraging me to publish and introducing me to new platforms. I truly appreciate your help!

To my daughters.  
May you find the partner that will put you on a pedestal and lay you on a bed of roses.  
Always walk with Love. 

1  
“…what if we were able to connect the schools? All of them.” Hermione mused, as she stepped over to the large windows of the teachers’ lounge at Hogwarts, moving her wand in a downward motion to pull down the blinds to help against the glare of the bright sunlight streaming in. A brilliant sunshine like this was rare enough and she enjoyed it immensely when it occurred. Then she’d often sit by the lake after classes had finished for the day, stretching her face into its warmth, letting her curls fall loose down her back. She so loved the soft breeze weave through her hair and caress her skin. 

Right now, however, the sunlight distracted her, weakening the image of her presentation, she had projected against the smooth wall of the lounge.  
The room darkened considerably and the image of drawn lines between the different schools of witchcraft and wizardry across the globe intensified once more.  
Hermione was presenting her breakthrough idea of connecting all schools, in order to build up a better curriculum for the International Studies Department.  
Her fellow teachers of all the other 11 wizarding schools worldwide were growing more interested and impressed by the minute, asking questions and brainstorming along with her to make this project a success for everyone.  
Hermione had been very pleased to welcome a special liaison and friend of the Japanese wizarding school Mahoutokoro. While they didn’t see each other often, the elderly teacher had grown very dear to Hermione’s heart and vice versa and they had actively kept up their correspondence over the years.  
The meeting took up most of the afternoon and had allowed for the students to be off early that day. Now everyone was filing out, chatting wildly, heading towards the Great Hall for a quick cup of tea before the Feast that evening.

Hermione stopped by her office to drop off her materials, fished out the finely woven, thin scarf she adored so much from her chest of drawers. It still held the faint scent of her perfume, citrussy, fresh and a tiny bit spicy like summer and sunshine. She didn’t like the usual fragrances, women wore, heavy, sweet, powdery, overly flowery. Her scents were Eau de Vacances and Ginger Essence.  
Light in colours of blushed pale pink and pastel hues, Hermione’s scarf was a favourite go-to piece that matched almost any clothes she owned. She loved scarves and gloves; hats not so much, as it tended to give her “hat-hair”, which was an ordeal to fix, given her full head of curls.  
She hung up her robe, snatched up the long bat-sleeved cardigan off the back of her chair, waved her wand up and down her female figure to reveal the casual Hermione, dressed in Jeans, a white T-Shirt, and comfy Vans. She donned the cardigan, closed the door on her office, locked it non-verbally and took the worn steps down the long winding staircase and out the grand double-doors. From here she could already see the distant lake, smell the fresh and sunbathed Scottish spring air of early May.  
She draped the scarf around her shoulders, smiled and headed out. 

Draco popped into her thoughts; she’d have to contact him soon. It was a solid idea, really. The headmaster had suggested MTI, Malfoy Tech Inc., as a potential partner in her endeavor to realize this enormous project. Draco was their founder, owner and CEO and unexpectedly (to her) avid in his developments of other breakthroughs in magical technology over the past decade. MTI was an off shoot of Lucius’ Malfoy Industries with many different branches.  
Now in his late 30s, Draco, had aged well, she’d heard. She remembered him being extremely smart and a good student. She hadn’t seen him in nearly 20 years. Their paths didn’t cross, her being a professor at Hogwarts away from the glamour and parties of the big city and such circles Draco must surely frequent.  
She thought back at his broken self, slumped over, elbows on his knees, head down, sitting next to his parents away from everyone else in the Great Hall after Voldemort’s defeat. She had felt sorry for him then. And also in the years to follow, when the Malfoys tried very hard to adjust to the new wizarding world, revisiting their moral standards, adjusting their family values. Of course, re-establishing their role in the wizarding community certainly couldn’t have been easy and had come at a price. It had meant to start again from rock bottom, basically going door-to-door, in a sense begging to be accepted, to be given a second chance. They’d become humble.  
She had read about the Malfoy’s journey back to fame and fortune in “WizBiz”, the monthly Wizards Business Magazine, and felt somewhat happy for their success. Hermione was not one to be envious, but rather granted others their luck and happiness.  
However, … it was Draco after all… Harry, Ron and Hermione had loathed him while in school, and he them in return. Most of all her, being muggle-born and all. They’d had their run-ins, to put it mildly.  
Yet, all of that was so very long ago… and she remembered a short conversation she and Draco had had shortly after Hogwarts was re-opened. She was only a few months into her studies at University and he had taken a class in a neighboring college.  
She had taken a break from studying at the library and had walked down the path of the lush, albeit frozen lawn fronting the college entrance to a local coffee shop. She’d taken an energizing breath of the cold, late afternoon air, and exhaled steamy clouds. She had fed off the amazing show of light the sky was granting her. Pastel shades of pinks and blues mingled with an icy mist rising from the nearby canal.  
Draco had stood there waiting for his order as she’d entered, doing a double take when he saw her walking in. She had gasped in surprise, her breath catching in her throat, but held his gaze, he’d flushed a bit, uncharacteristically and had said a shy “Hi”. He’d looked nearly the same then. Tall, dark coat over a dark suit. A bit tired maybe. Worn. His blue eyes free of the clouds of hatred, though, yet introverted, cautious. Although it had seemed freshly cut, he still sported the same hairstyle; it had after all only been a couple of months.  
Hermione had stammered a “Hi” back, then quickly recovering, had ordered her Chai Latte and had stood aside to speak with him in hushed tones.  
“Hermione, I …” he’d begun but seemed at a loss for words, looking down at his shoes, regaining his composure and had said: “I… I’m sorry.” He had looked her straight in the eyes when he’d said it. She’d felt he was sincere in his apology, although it was a bit vague and too general perhaps for her taste.  
“What are you sorry about then?”, she had wanted to know, raising her chin up defiantly, eyeing him with skepticism.  
“You know… I haven’t always treated you well and I’ve said some things…”, he sort of got his wand in a knot choking out the words, as giving an apology obviously wasn’t something he was used to.  
“Yeah, I remember that.” She’d turned her head back from staring out the coffee shops front window when he’d spoken, now looking him straight in the eyes: “Very well, actually”.  
Those blue eyes, that used to harbour so much hate and resentments, now seemed calmer, even a bit nicer. Friendly almost.  
“What are you doing here?” she’d asked.  
“Attending a workshop over at Godric’s College,” he’d answered quietly.  
“How are you?” she had heard herself asking, surprising herself.  
“Okay. You?”  
“Yeah, good…” She feared an awkward silence coming on but was saved by the shop girl calling out Draco’s name and then her own.  
She took her order, turned to him once more and said, ”Well, I’m glad to see you’re okay. All the best to you.”  
She had smiled warmly, turned and walked out to the sound of the chiming bell above the door.  
“And to you as well,” she had heard him say, but hadn’t turned around to look at him again, just hurried off back towards the library.

Now she sat there, by the lake shore, remembering how her heart had beaten so fiercely in her chest. What the hell had brought on that emotion? She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, not then and certainly not now, after all these years.  
Merlin’s beard… 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Professor Slughorn, who had been headmaster since the end of the war, was assisted by Professor McGonagall, who had done the job as an interim, initially, but realizing soon, that she was indeed growing a bit old, yet was happy to help out Horace wherever she could, as she had done for Dumbledore. They made a great team! Although Slughorn made the second Slytherin Headmaster in a short period of time, he was well liked and respected, at Hogwarts as well as the Ministry. Snape’s short-lived reign thankfully hadn’t overshadowed the current headmasters’ ability to reconcile the wary fronts in the beginning. Slughorn always strived to stay within the light, as he liked to point out. Now after those nearly 20 years, he was still at it, strong, funny as ever, strict, but fair.  
Hermione felt silly for not thinking of it herself, but indeed a tiny bit apprehensive of the headmaster’s suggestion to implement MTI as a partner for her project.  
The headmaster had handed her Draco’s current info, “Why don’t we see if he can’t come up with the technology to bring your plans to fruition!” and Slughorn had smiled his warm, broad smile. Hermione felt a little mischief mingle in his words and gave him a wry smile in return. 

After the Feast, which she had kept light to keep her shape in check, she returned to her office, trying desperately to come up with some clever words to write to the head of MTI.  
She found herself wondering what he’d look like now though. Curiosity getting the better of herself she pulled out her muggle device, a newest model smartphone, typed his name in the search bar and after only half a second brought up an image of Draco Malfoy. Next to his wife, Astoria. She vaguely remembered the dark-haired beauty from her time as a Hogwarts student. Also a Slytherin, she had been two years below them. Her family, the Greengrass’s, had been one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Pure-blood to the core.  
Hermione felt a strong adrenaline kick in her chest. She couldn’t explain why. Of course, he’d be married. And of course, to Astoria, or someone like her. Pure-blood. Beautiful. Rich. Influential.  
Bile rose in Hermione’s throat. That picture made her want to vomit. What was she thinking? Just because she herself had divorced, didn’t mean everyone else had, too. She shoved the feeling aside, closed the tab resolutely, closed the app and turned the phone’s screen off. Setting down the phone she reached for a fresh quill, some parchment and began jotting down some notes as to what she was going to say…  
When she was satisfied with the result, she re-wrote her letter in neat script, sealed it magically with her signature, held it out to her owl, which took off immediately, disappearing quickly into the dark night.

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

The owls screech jerked Draco out of his thoughts. He pushed his office chair back, curious and surprised at this late interruption. He didn’t usually get owls this late, unless he was in the middle of a project, which he wasn’t right now. He really should’ve been home a while ago, but just couldn’t bring himself to leave the serenity and peace of his office. He’d missed the dinner party already, so what was the point in going home now? He’d just stay here. Better that way.  
He crossed the large room towards the bank of windows overlooking the city and marveling for a brief second at the lights of London at night, he took the parchment. He didn’t recognize the owl.  
Draco almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he read who the letter was from. Hermione Granger. Well, well.  
He stepped over to the sideboard, which held a Whisky set on a silver tray. The decanter sleek, simple, understated, no carvings, just like the glasses. Just as he liked it. No fuss. He undid the top and the sharp fumes of his favourite Scottish Whisky reached his nostrils. He poured.  
Returning to his desk, he picked up the parchment, his eyes glued to the words as he drank.  
Slughorn had had the bright idea to have him develop the technology for a project Hermione had come up with at Hogwarts. Well if that wasn’t something. It sounded an easy enough job, something he could do blindfolded if he was being honest. Nothing he would usually accept, the assignment being too small and not very profitable at first glance.  
Draco poured himself another dram of Whisky and slammed it down. Better.  
Shit. No, not better at all, as suddenly, images of a young witch laying on her back in his family’s grand room flashed before his eyes, with his Aunt Bella straddling her chest, pinning her in place and inscribing Hermione’s left forearm with that word. Mudblood. He hadn’t thought of that horrific incident in many many years and didn’t welcome it at all. The torture and all those many dark, traumatic months had been pure terror.  
He needed another drink. Or two.  
He poured and drank and pondered. Poured, drank, pondered.  
By three in the morning he had composed a reply: he’d humour Hogwarts. And see Hermione.


	2. Chapter 2

2  
Holy cow! That was fast! There was a reply from MTI with her morning owl, along with the Daily Prophet and a  
small package from the French perfumer, she ordered her signature scents through. Tossing the paper unceremoniously aside, she undid the parchment, her heart skipping a beat. ‘What is wrong with me??’, she chided herself.  
“Hermione, what a surprise!” it said. “Your project sounds like it could be right up my alley. I’ll be up in Edinburgh this week anyway, why don’t we just meet up, say, Wednesday? I’ll come up to Hogwarts. We can chat then. Two o’clock good for you?” She was taken aback by his eagerness and looked up nervously to see if anyone had noticed her blushing. “Send me a quick owl to confirm. Looking forward to it! Draco”.  
Well… that was, again, unexpected. After all these years she had expected reluctance, snootiness, a return to his old habits. Curious…  
She smiled to herself. Tomorrow it is then, she thought. Yet, a tiny feeling of apprehension was growing in the pit of her stomach.  
“Everything okay, Hermione?” Cho asked, who was seated next to her. Cho was one of her closest friends and colleagues at Hogwarts.  
Hermione smiled and nodded. ”Yeah, I’m good. An unexpected visitor coming to see me tomorrow.”  
“Really? Who is it?” Cho asked curiously. Cho wasn’t nosy and Hermione trusted her. She had proven her friendship over and over again, especially during Hermione’s divorce. That’s when they’d grown so close. And that’s why she didn’t mind sharing the news with her.  
“Draco.” Hermione said under her breath.  
“Draco? Malfoy??” She whispered aghast.  
Hermione nodded.  
Cho clutched a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “When? Why? I mean, WHY??”  
“My project… the headmaster thought it a good idea to involve him. So, I asked for a meet. IMMEDIATE reply.” Hermione took a sip of her tea. “I’m scared, I think.”  
“Well, okay then. DO let me know how it went. When’s he supposed to be here?” Cho enquired.  
“Tomorrow, 2 o’clock. Wanna come say Hi?”  
“Uhm…” stammered Cho. “Want me to?”  
“Sure! Of course!” Hermione beamed. “Well, I’ll best get this meeting confirmed. See you later, Love,” Hermione said, getting up and kissing her friend on the cheek.  
“Bye, Dear. Later!” 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione woke with a jolt from a sting in her left forearm. It was barely breaking dawn. Her scar hadn’t stung in years. Not since it had healed off in 1998; it had faded to almost nothing, only very faintly visible. And really only if one knew it was there. She touched the tender spot, felt the tingle dissipate slowly. She turned over, pulled her covers up and lay there watching the sun rise.  
What was this? Was she stressing? Over what? She should consult Harry. How does one deal with scars? Both Harry and Ginny were early risers, so they wouldn’t mind an early call.  
Letting out a guttural groan, she finally threw back her thick duvet an hour later and swung her legs out of bed.  
Her flat at Hogwarts was one of the nicer ones. Her bedroom featured double French doors, leading onto a rooftop patio, which she had decorated with large potted plants and rose trees. She stepped out into the chilly morning air, taking a deep, calming breath. She stretched through a slow Sun Salutation yoga routine and worked out the kinks in her neck and shoulders. She was stressing! No other explanation for the tense muscles she felt.  
She left the doors open, leaving the thin, floor length drapes to sway in the breeze, as she made her way to the en-suite bathroom.  
Hermione showered extensively, put on a light make-up and pulled her hair into a loose low bun, letting some curls fall into her face. Out of nowhere she thought of Draco’s hair, its white blond, its thickness and the way it had fallen into his eyes and him shoving it back. His eyes… a chill crept up her spine. Focus! she ordered herself.  
She turned on the kettle and brewed a strong cuppa, before heading out. Hermione still relied on her muggle devices, rather than doing every single thing magically. Unlike Draco, she was sure. 

Breakfast was a quick affair of eggs and bacon. Her hands were clammy. She hadn’t called Harry. Maybe that would calm her nerves.  
“Hey! Good morning!” Harry's voice was cheery when he answered her call. Hermione was walking to class, clutching her teaching materials under one arm, holding her mobile to her ear with the other.  
“How are you Harry? How’s Ginny? I haven’t seen you lot in much too long! We must get together again, soon!” Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her upon hearing Harry’s voice. To this day their close-knit circle of friends remained, well… close. She was already glad to have called him. The least he’d be able to do for her, was calm her down a bit.  
“Good! Terrific! Ginny’s well, she’s busy with work, but quite content. We’re spending a lot of time in the garden, the usual, you know? Getting ready to take a break, though. A few days in the Canary Islands will do both of us good.”  
“That sounds fabulous, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. “Send me a postcard! You know I do collect them all. It’ll join the others on my office wall!”  
“Of course. Ginny’s already said that. But how about you? You sound a bit … anxious … to be honest.” She could hear Harry’s concern.  
“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?”  
“Absolutely not! What’s up? Talk to me.”  
“Remember the project I’m working on?”  
“Yeah, yeah. Connecting the schools worldwide.”  
“Yes. Well, Slughorn suggested I bring MTI on board for the required technology.”  
“Okay.” Harry took in a breath. “Uhm, that sounds like a good plan. They’re good. They’ll get the job done. Properly.”  
“They will, I’m sure. Draco’s coming here to meet with me.” She paused. Then suddenly the words just poured out frantically. “This afternoon, Harry! At two!” She practically screamed into the phone. She heard Harry getting ready to reply, but before he could make a sound: “My scar hurt.” She blurted out.  
“WHAT?”  
“This morning. It woke me.”, she said desperately. Almost in hysterics now.  
“After all this time?”  
“Yeah. It freaked me out!!”  
Harry could feel Hermione tense, her words came out croaked and she seemed extremely stressed, her breathing coming in short spurts like she was running.  
“Well, obviously you’ve got your wand twisted over this! ... Slow down for a moment. Stop walking. Listen to me.”  
Hermione stopped, leaned against a wall and feeling the cool of the thick walls penetrate through her robes. Pressing the phone against her ear, she could feel it growing hot.  
“You can do this, Mione. You’ve created a fantastic idea. Show him. He’s very good at what he does. It’ll be an outstanding collaboration. Don’t worry!” He let that sink in for a second, before continuing. He heard her breathing slow and after a short second said “As for the scar… don’t put too much meaning into that... It wasn’t inflamed, was it?”  
“No, just tingly.”  
“Okay, so no worries. Probably just apprehension,” he offered.  
“Yeah…”  
“Will you call me later? Tell me how it went?”  
“I will.”  
“Draco has changed,” Harry said. “I’ve been running into him every now and then. I don’t think you have anything to fear.”  
Hermione sighed heavily. “So I’ve heard,” she said at last.  
“And if he does overstep in any way, YOU are much stronger. Remember that!”, Harry said. “Don’t forget. YOU are brilliant! The brightest witch of her age!”, he teased.  
She could hear him smile as he said it and that made her smile, too. She felt better now. Her pulse had calmed, her breathing relaxed.  
“Thank you, Harry.”, she said and blew him a kiss.  
“No need to thank me. I’m always here for you.” He sent a kiss back. “Call me. Tell me all about it!”  
“I will,” she said and signed off.  
Stepping into her classroom, she straightened her shoulders and greeted her students happily.


	3. Chapter 3

3  
Somehow time had slowed to a crawl.   
09:30.  
10:48.  
11:25.  
12:07.  
Hermione kept checking her watch. At last it was ten to two. She stepped into the teachers’ lounge bathroom, checked her hair and applied a dap of gloss to her lips. She didn’t want to overdo it. Like she was trying too hard. She couldn’t grasp what was getting into her. She avoided Cho’s mischievous gaze.  
At two o’clock sharp the fireplace made its typical roar, announcing a visitor via the Floo Network.  
Draco appeared, as expected, in an impeccably pressed suit. The suit a dark charcoal grey, black shirt, no tie. It enhanced his light complexion, just as she had remembered. Draco had aged well, indeed. His hair had become a bit darker, more of a honey blond now, still thick but cut much shorter. Frown lines and distinct nasolabial lines gave him a mature look.   
Hermione’s breath caught and her heart skipped a beat. He was here.   
A modern brief case in hand, he looked around and upon seeing Hermione, his eyes lit up and smiled a dashing and welcoming smile. Merlin, those eyes… His eyes, as blue as corn flowers, friendly and warm. No traces left of the disturbed, arrogant and entitled boy, she used to know.   
“Hermione! Good to see you!”, he called as he climbed out of the fireplace, now walking towards her and extending a hand in greeting.   
“Draco. It’s been a long time,” she smiled, took his warm hand and shook it, being shockingly aware of her own hands freezing. It seemed all the blood had drained from her limbs to warm her body, which was at complete odds with feeling herself blush a deep shade of crimson and cursing herself for it. Get a grip, Granger! “Remember, Cho Chang?”, she stammered, letting go of his hand and gesturing towards her gorgeous Asian friend.  
“Cho! Of course. Hi! How are you?”, he asked, shaking her hand as well.   
“Why, thank you, Draco. I trust the same is true for you?”, she chirped.   
“Lovely!”, he answered brightly.  
“I’ve set up in the conference room over here, Draco. Follow me?” Hermione turned hastily and catching an unevenness in the old rug (which she’d never ever done before!!), stumbled over her own feet but caught herself in time. She straightened quickly, smoothing her skirt and trying desperately to cover up this most unfortunate mishap. Ugh…!!   
“Careful, Granger. Don’t want to have to carry you up to the hospital wing just yet. It may give the wrong impression!”, Draco joked.  
“Ha!” was all Hermione could come up with.

“Can I get you some tea? Coffee?”, she offered when they had settled into the smallest of the conference rooms, which was usually reserved for parent-teacher talks. It had a nice view of the grounds though and Hermione felt good about being able to present Hogwarts in a way Draco had surely never seen it.   
“I’d love some tea if you don’t mind. Light on the cream, though, please”, he said.  
An elf appeared with a tray and placed perfectly brewed cups of tea in front of them both. There was shortbread, too and some fresh fruit.   
“Thank you”, they said in unison and laughed awkwardly.  
“Nice room. Is this your office?”, asked Draco.   
“No, just the parent-teacher conference room. My office is on top of this room. I thought this would suit our needs though”, she apologized. Why did she now feel the need to apologize? She grew more frustrated with herself by the minute...   
“Well, that makes your own office a nice size, with a killer view, no less! I bet you can see all the way to Hogsmeade from there!”, he beamed.  
“It is nice,” she said proudly. “I spend a lot of time there and wanted to feel comfortable, so I’ve added some features that other offices don’t have. Some muggle technology included”, she smiled whimsically.   
He returned her smile “Really? Like what?”   
“Well, for starters, there weren’t enough outlets, so I’ve added some more. Muggle technology requires electricity, if you remember… “ she began. “And since I’m an avid supporter of elf rights, I feel that I can brew my own tea or hoover the place. Hence the outlets,” she said smugly. “I’ve set up a small lounge area, with an armchair and a TV, to keep up with what’s going on in the rest of the world.”  
“I remember hearing about the elf thing. I didn’t think you’d still be at it, though. Persistent you are.” He set down his cup, looked at her and said “I’d love to see it some time. If you’d let me.”  
“Oh! Uh… sure,” she stammered. “If you like.” Clearing her throat, she said “Shall we get started then?”  
“Yeah. Let’s.”

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Over the next few hours, Hermione introduced her idea and Draco was most willing to help out with additions or modifications of his own. They worked well together, time flying by.   
Every now and then, Hermione found herself watching him just a second too long when he explained a certain process or offered background info. She’d quickly look away and felt a silly heat rise to her cheeks.   
Yet Hermione was quite impressed with Draco’s business approach, with his demeanor, the ease with which they interacted.   
She’d become positively giddy, joking around and teasing.   
When the sky started turning lovely shades of pinks, yellows and blues, she felt dread at the impending end of a genuinely fun afternoon!   
“So, what do you think? Are you going to accept the job?”, she asked quietly, looking up from her cup of tea, she held in both hands. They had been sitting in a comfortable silence for a short moment, gazing out at the beautiful late afternoon.  
He didn’t immediately answer, but rather let her stew in her own juice, keeping her in suspense for a bit longer. He stood up, walked over to the windows, opened it to let in the fresh spring air and stood there taking a deep breath.   
“It does smell good here, doesn’t it?”, he said matter-of-factly, turning to look at her. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat with me? I’m starving!” he announced.   
“Uhm… “, she must’ve looked stunned, dumbfounded, because his grin broadened and he crossed his arms, waiting for her answer. “Errr…. Uhm… sure! Yeah,” she croaked out. “Dinner is about to start in just a little bit anyway.”  
“I meant at a restaurant. Just you and me.” He eyed her expectantly.  
“You want to take me out to dinner?” she gasped. Couldn’t believe her ears.  
“Why not? We could fine tune the business aspects over some sushi, jasmine tea and sake. It sure looks like you could use a bit of away time from these old halls.”  
“I LOVE these old halls!!” she snapped a bit too defensively.  
“I know you do. And it suits you.” He smiled warmly. “Still, good to get away sometimes, is it not?”  
She sighed. “You’re right. It’s been too long.” And making up her mind, she added “Sure. Why don’t we?” Hermione smiled. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Draco felt positively elated! He hadn’t been in this good a mood for a very long time. While he had been a bit anxious coming back here, he now couldn’t recall what had taken him so long to get his wand unknotted and at least visit the castle with its thick walls, winding and worn staircases, long halls and ancient suits of amour here and there.   
In his youth he couldn’t see the beauty the grounds held, the landscape, the quiet serenity. He’d been so full of hate. Now being here he realized that he so desperately craved the peace and quiet the castle offered and on top of that was hugely surprised to find Hermione to be such a splendid companion and conversationalist.  
Naturally he’d been nervous about seeing her again, it’d been almost 15 - no must be close to 20 years now, since he’d last seen her. 19, to be exact.   
He’d taken great care in not having her know, that he’d seen her stealing glances. And he in return had watched her. Intently. Curiously. As for the first time. The shade of her lips, pale pink, like cherry blossoms with a hint of shine. Her eyes, rather than the dull brown he remembered, they were a dark amber like chocolate, mingled with golden specks and a dark rim, matching her light brown hair so very well. He’d noticed her long fingers, she must play the piano, he thought. Her lovely curves and the way she held her head when she spoke… she smelled wonderful, too. Not overpowered, boudoir-ish like most women he knew, that always tried too hard. Hermine smelled like a fine summer breeze, clean and soft. He had taken note of that when he had first shaken her hand. She was free and easy, no pretence, no bullshit. She spoke her mind, clearly, but not meanspirited. With such a warmhearted manner. He was rather impressed with Hermione Granger.   
At one point during their meeting his breath had caught in his throat, when she’d suddenly turned towards him, looking up from her presentation, talking passionately about her project. He hadn’t heard her words, he just marveled at her energy, her light, her stunning beauty. He’d smiled involuntarily and she’d smiled back, shyly looking away much too soon, as if holding his gaze was against the law.   
He had stopped himself just in time from reaching out and burying his hands in her hair, freeing the curls from their entrapment and pulling her lips towards his. Bloody hell! He really really wanted to kiss her. Feel the touch of her supple softness on his.   
He wanted to spend more time with her. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want this feeling to stop.   
But dammit to hell! He was still trapped in this awful marriage of his. As much as he wanted to act, and act NOW, he recoiled, coming back into the moment and registered Hermione’s words again. Draco tried, somewhat unsuccessfully mind you, getting back into business mode.   
Fucking Astoria! He loathed his wife. And all she stood for. Her parties and over the top extravagance, excesses of alcohol, her proneness to violence, her entitlement and incomprehensible and ignorant views on almost any subject.   
Draco was glad now, that they’d had Scorpius early in their marriage and that their son was 19 already, going quick on 20. Scorpius was ready to leave the nest, working successfully for Lucius in the Finance Department at Malfoy Industries. The two of them had been looking at flats for Scorpius and were getting ready to close on a decked-out bachelor pad in London’s Battersea, overlooking the Thames and Battersea Park.   
Scorpius had often, of late, complained to him about his mother and her ways. Draco no longer made excuses for his wife. He felt that one was served much better with the truth than with any bullshit cover story.   
And so, because of his more than messed up home life, Draco had magically added a small bedroom to his office, protected it with an enhanced concealment charm to prevent detection from his office staff; he had peace there.   
And he was quite proud to say that he’d finally gotten over himself and had hired a solicitor starting divorce proceedings. 

Currently, though, snapping out of his stupor of depressing thoughts, he didn’t want this very entertaining afternoon with Hermione to end, so he decided to well … not let it.   
“Great!” he said, rubbed his hands together, breaking into a huge smile. “Off to Edinburgh then!”  
Hermione, startled by his sudden outburst, stood up and quickly packed up her things. Feeling a jolt of excitement and the beginning of butterflies in her stomach, she led him out of the conference room, back into the teachers’ lounge.   
She brushed up against him, when he was trying to have her lead the way, catching a whiff of his cologne. Spicy and woodsy headnotes filled her senses and she felt a shiver run down her spine, which triggered her scar to start tingling again oddly. Panicked she gasped and clutched her arm.   
“Christ!” she hissed and rubbed the peculiar sensation.   
Draco’s tall frame closed on her taking her arm in his hands, “What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?”  
“I don’t know… “, she admitted. “It started this morning.” She began unbuttoning the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons on her blouse and pushed the sleeve up her arm. Rubbing it vigorously, she tried to make it stop.   
Draco tenderly touched her forearm with his long, manicured fingers, tracing the scar ever so gently. He had thought of that scar only two days prior. Draco felt an odd heat radiating at his touch… and the feeling suddenly shot up his arm and hitting his own former dark mark with a smack of such force that he let go of her with a jerk and jumped, backing into a sideboard. “Fuck!” he shouted, his eyes wide, looking at her in astonishment!   
Hermione must have felt something similar as her breath caught and took a step back as well to create some distance between them. “What was that?”, she quaked.   
“Shit… I have no idea!”, Draco stuttered. A small beat of sweat had formed at his hairline. He combed his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry Hermione. I don’t usually swear like this. It just surprised me.” He seemed as worried as she was. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”  
“Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you… I mean, no. You didn’t hurt me.” She stammered. “I haven’t felt my scar since it healed off. Not until this morning anyway.” She touched it again, slowly, ever so softly, up and down and then giggled a bit. “It tickles now, as if caressed with a feather…”, she whispered.   
Raising her eyes to look at Draco she found his eyes closed. “Draco?”  
Letting out a guttural sound, he stammered “I felt it in my … “, he stopped, looking at her with wild eyes. “… I felt it in my ... You know? Down there…” generally gesturing at his groin. “That tickling you were describing…”, he looked confused and aroused at the same time. His ears had turned a bit pink. He looked a bit embarrassed.  
“Oh Merlin! I’m so sorry!” Hermine gulped, covering her mouth with one hand. The ticklish tingly sensation had subsided by now, but she was afraid to admit, that she had felt the same way. A sudden and strong arousal. First at his and then at her own touch.   
“May I see your mark?”, she begged quietly after a moment.  
“It’s very faint, I’ve had it removed… right after… you know. Rather difficult to get rid of entirely though. Many sessions. Painful, too.” He took off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeve to show her and sure enough it was hardly visible at all. It looked as if his skin was somehow translucent, though, and he stared at it astonished. “It changed”, he gasped. “It was never like this.” He sounded worried.   
“What do you mean, ‘it changed’?”, she wanted to know.   
“It’s sort of opaque now, see? It’s never been like this. It’s always been regular skin with a faded tattoo…”.   
Looking at her own arm again, she noted “Mine’s changed, too… Look!” she held hers next to his and noticed how the remains of their past had become nearly identical in appearance.  
Translucent, almost shimmering. As if they were healing from the inside out.  
“I need a drink!” Draco blurted out.   
“A stiff one!”, she agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

4  
Thankfully there was no one else here at this hour; surely, the rest of Hogwarts’ staff were hungrily awaiting dinner in the Great Hall. So, their little incident went unnoticed.   
She collected her things from where she had left them at a colleague’s place, dropped it onto her chair and turning to Draco, said “Where to from here?”. She was still a little lightheaded but tried to act as if nothing had happened at all… Composure, Hermione! she reminded herself.  
“I’ve got an apartment at the Edinburgh Grand.” Draco said, a bit out of it himself still.   
“You’ve got an apartment in Edinburgh? And you want me to go there with you?”, she said shocked.  
“What? No! I mean yes, but NO!” he laughed, recovering. “They’re serviced apartments, like a luxury hotel of sorts. There’s a few that are special Wizarding ones, registered with the Floo Network and all.”  
“Oh. Okay. Still… “ she hesitated.  
“We need to get into the city, don’t we? We’ll floo there and walk to the restaurant. It’s not too far. Nice night. Come on.” He paused. “After dinner you can floo back to your own place,” he winked trying to convince her of his sincerity. “Which is where, by the way?!”  
“My flat? On the other side of the castle, near Gryffindor Tower. Obviously!”, rolling her eyes. She was starting to feel better. Lighter.   
“Obviously!” He laughed and stepped over to the fireplace. “Come on.” Holding out his hand to her.

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione climbed out of a large fireplace onto a smooth, well kept, oriental rug in muted tones. She stood in the middle of a lusciously furnished and tastefully decorated living room. Understated elegance at its best. Two sofas facing each other, both with throw pillows in the same colours as the rug. A low coffee table held a few large candles, never lit, towards one side, while two fresh green apples lay on a sliver tray on the other.   
A large Monet adorned the wall above the one couch, while the other’s back was towards a row of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. There was a huge mirror above the fireplace, they’d just exited, with the mantelpiece holding a bouquet of fresh flowers and decorated with a matching set of candles as the coffee table. A glittering chandelier hung at perfect height in the middle of the room.   
The living room was illuminated by two identical small table lamps behind the sofa by the wall, bathing the room into a dim golden light.   
“Wow!” Hermione said. “Nice place you picked.”  
“Hm.” Was his only answer.   
He went into the bedroom, dropped his briefcase on the bed and pulled out his wand. With a swift move he freshened up and following his example Hermione did the same.   
“Shall we then? It’s just up the road. Ever been to a ‘Yo! Sushi?’”  
“Er, no. I haven’t. Is it any good?”  
“Would I take you to a bad place?”  
“Well… given your past behaviour…”  
“Ha. You’re funny!” he commented, not smiling, but clearly amused. “I’ve worked very hard on myself.” He assured her.   
“I’m sure you have,” she agreed.  
“Is Sushi okay, though, for you? Or would you prefer a burger? There’s the ‘Boozy Cow’. Burgers and Cocktails.” he grinned.   
“Oooh, choices, choices… I do love my meat bloody as hell!” she exclaimed.  
“How very Slytherin of you… “, Draco joked.  
Hermione gasped in mock outrage but gave him a crooked wink and smiled “I’m allowed a small flaw, no?!”.   
“You sure are!”   
“But I’m feeling Japanese tonight”, she announced pulling her curls into a messy high bun.   
“Perfect!”

They walked down South St Andrews Street to Princes Street, turned right and soon found themselves at a double glass door entrance leading to an escalator and a stairway taking guests to the upstairs restaurant.  
Hermione was excited and giddy. Being with Draco came so easy and natural; it surprised her again. The conversation ran light and never awkward. They spoke of her project, what Draco’s role would be in it, planned future meetings and eventually the topics went off track towards their private lives. Hermione told him about her divorce from Terry Boot a few years back and Draco nearly choked on his sake, coughing violently before recovering slightly and asking, “You were married to Terry Boot?!” Apparently, he couldn’t believe his ears.   
“I was…” she nodded sadly, with raised eyebrows and her lips pulled into a straight line. “For nearly 7 years.”   
“I know he was in our year, but how did THAT happen?”  
“After Ron and I broke up a couple of years after the war, I ran into him at a muggle club in London. He was nice enough in school and we got along well for a bit, with him being a Half-Blood, me muggle-born. It sort of fit, me not having to explain the muggle technologies and muggle world events to him. That was nice for a change, but then the character differences occurred, and I realized that, while he was a good guy and nothing terrible happened, he just didn’t tickle my fancy any longer. Towards the end I couldn’t stand him touching me. I hated it when he came too close, kissing the back of my neck or even taking my hand.”  
“I know exactly what you mean…” Draco confessed quietly.  
“You do?”  
“Oh yeah! You bet!”, he snarled, his frown lines deepened, and Hermione was reminded of the disgusted faces he used to make at her, Harry and Ron during their years at Hogwarts.  
“The picture I saw online –“  
“The muggle tech thingy? What do you call it again? –“  
“The internet.”  
“That’s it…”  
“I saw a picture of you and Astoria there, looking rather dashing and happy together.”  
“Haha! Right…” he snorted sarcastically, making a face. “That must’ve been either a really old one, or I’ve had my front up and one too many to drink to care that a picture was taken.” His face had darkened, and he quickly tossed back a cup of sake.   
“Not doing so well then I guess?”  
“Not well at all.” She thought she heard him mumble something about ‘fucking hating her’.   
Hermione didn’t want to dig deeper or make him feel any worse, so after a second, she said, ”Thank you for taking me here, Draco. It was lovely.” She smiled at him. “Do you come here often?”  
“On occasion. I like the place. I usually sit at the bar and pick up whatever sparks my interest off the belt. I’ve never brought anyone here if that’s what you mean…” his words trailed off.   
“I didn’t mean that.” She said quietly. Hermione felt bad now. It was obviously quite a sore topic…  
A waiter appeared and took away their plates. They ordered another small bottle of sake.   
“So, Harry said you’d do a good job with my project.”  
“Did he now?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s nice of him to say… unexpected, actually.”  
“He said if you misbehaved, I should remind you of the time I punched you in our 3rd year,” she snickered when she said it and Draco burst out laughing.   
“Bloody hell, I’d nearly forgotten about that!! That really hurt! I think you broke my nose, witch!” he laughed. “Did you know that Goyle ended up in Azkaban for smuggling unregistered creatures into Britain?”  
“What? Are you serious??” Hermione gaped and threw her head back laughing. “I knew nothing good would become of him!”, she chuckled.   
“Yeah… he was an idiot. I should’ve seen it earlier.”   
“We were young…”  
“We were.”  
Time flew again and soon they’d finished the bottle. Hermione was feeling a bit giggly, and when the time came to get up after paying their bill, she had to steady herself at the back of her chair, but Draco was right there, grabbing her by the elbow. That was the second time today he’d saved her from falling. A bit embarrassed she lowered her gaze, feeling herself blush, felt the butterflies in her tummy return. She donned her coat and scarf, Draco following suit.   
Outside the cool evening air hit her like a ton of bricks and she held on to Draco’s arm as they slowly walked back to his hotel.   
They chatted and giggled, generally being silly while checking out things on display at the many shop windows.   
As they reached his room, the warm interior blanketed her in a lovely embrace and she suddenly dreaded having to part with his company.   
“May I use the loo before I floo back?” Hermione asked. “Oooh! That rimed”, she giggled foolishly.   
“It sure, did!”, Draco laughed and pointing towards the open double door, said “It’s just in there, off the bedroom.”  
Hermione found the luxurious bathroom and softly closed the door behind her. She didn’t really have to pee but performed a quick cleansing spell to rid her of whatever unfortunate bad tastes might still linger in her mouth and produced a tiny bottle of mild mouth wash from her clutch to rinse with quickly for good measure. Just to be safe. Minty fresh. She liked that. She couldn’t quite explain why she did it. It just felt right. Straightening her shoulders and smoothing over her face and hair, she dabbed on some lip balm, then washed her hands before returning to the living room.   
Draco stood by the window. He had pulled the curtains back, exposing the gorgeous view of the city from up top.   
“Isn’t it nice? So peaceful and quiet from up here,” he said in awe.   
“Yes,” she said quietly. “It sure is.” She stood next to him but closed her eyes and tried to memorize his aura and his closeness before she had to leave soon.   
Draco turned, speaking softly “It was a lovely day…”. She looked up at him and barely heard his next words, “I kinda don’t want it to end…”  
“Me, neither…” Hermione whispered.  
He was so close that she could feel his warmth radiating from him. A shiver ran down her spine and settled in her belly. The butterflies were back...   
Draco reached out, freeing her curls and his gaze locked on to her lips and pulled her gently towards him. Hermione’s breath caught and their lips touched ever so softly. With a sudden rush their kiss became urgent and Hermione threw her arms around his neck and he held her head in place, kissing her hungrily. Hermione moaned and pressed herself against him. Oh Lord!! how she’d been wanting to do this … Draco must have performed the same cleansing spell, she tasted spearmint and growing even more entangled in him for it, running her hands through his blond hair.   
Their kiss didn’t break for several long moments, growing, then decreasing in intensity, sometimes simply breathing each other in with their lips barely touching, before not being able to stand it any longer and their game starting over again. A game of cat and mouse - catch and release. Draco pulled back a little, kissing her lips ever so gently, and scattered a hundred tiny kisses along her jawline. He turned her head slightly so his lips could follow his fingers as they slid down her neck, lightly caressing her tender skin.   
Hermione slowly let her arms slide down his neck and shoulders helping him in dropping his jacket to the floor. Their lips had found each other again and Draco, pulling her back into him, let his hands slide down the small of her back to rest on her perfectly round bum, holding her tight, squeezing, making sure she didn’t move away from him. She could feel his growing excitement and gave a soft moan as his left hand found its way up the front to cup her breast. “Draco…”, she breathed heavily.   
“Yes, Love?”   
She didn’t reply but rather intensified their play by reaching down between them and rubbing his erection top to bottom with her warm hand. Up again and down again.   
Draco sucked in a breath “Fuck, Granger!” and fumbled clumsily with the buttons of her blouse. Rubbing up again and down again her hand egging him on. The magic between them seemed to crackle like electricity, which only heightened their arousal.   
He grew frustrated with the buttons and would’ve loved to just tear the damn thing off her but opted for a non-verbal spell to help him undress her. Hermione smiled, both hands now working on his belt and he rolled his eyes, this was clearly not going fast enough for him. The blouse slid off her shoulders, down her arms and puddled at her feet. She began undoing his black shirt, her fingers making short work of the tiny black buttons. Draco slid the delicate straps of her silk camisole down her shoulders to reveal a pale pink bra perfectly holding her breast in its cups. He gently pinched her nipple through the lacy fabric and was rewarded with a content sigh of pleasure.   
He quickly undid the cufflinks and pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside. Their skin seemed to sizzle with magic now that they could get even closer, nothing between them anymore. They never broke contact, completely absorbed in exploring each other and kissing wildly.   
Draco turned her around, pulled her head back to rest against his chest and ran his hand hungrily along her body. He bent over to kiss her neck and shoulder, showering her with a million kisses. He loved the way she smelled, her skin so soft and pale. Her hair falling on his shoulders and arms, how perfectly she matched his contours. Merlin this was perfect. He couldn’t stop touching her, running his right hand along her stretched neck, down her décolleté and into her bra to cup her breast and gently massage it. She let out another moan and he could feel her heat rising. Her bum rubbed against him, driving him mad. “Christ Hermione”, he breathed heavily.   
His left hand traveled down her left arm and she voluntarily turned it out, so he could caress the tender inside skin of her arms. She loved the way he touched her, thoughtfully, carefully but somehow needy. She adored his longing for her.  
He came closer to her transformed scar, his touch feeling like the touch of a feather, a tickling running up the veins of her arm. Sliding his hand into hers now their marks touched and with a sudden jolt the tingling intensified so violently they both screamed and jumped apart. 

“Oh my god!”, Hermione gasped clutching her arm. “What was that?!” she cried wide eyed and confused.  
He rubbed his mark befuddled, “I have no idea, dammit!” He seemed angry now and utterly flustered. Regretting his outburst instantly, he took her hand and kissed it. “Are you okay?”  
Her heart was hammering in her chest, she was sure he could hear it. “I think so. Just a bit weak,” smiling up at him she saw his worried expression and cupped his jaw in her hand, gently brushing his cheek with her thumb. “I’m fine. I promise.”  
He bent down to kiss her softly. “Thank Merlin!”  
He pulled her closer, just holding her, breathing her in. Her hair, her excitement, her wonderful, warm self.  
Reality crept in slowly and a chill grazed Hermione’s bare back.   
“What are we doing here, Draco?” she whispered, frightened of what he might answer.  
He kissed her hair, sensing her fear he said, “We did something wonderful and pure.”   
Feeling her heart sink, Hermione could feel tears threatening, her throat closing up. “We did”, she croaked out faintly. She began pulling the straps of her camisole back up and knelt down to pick up her blouse. “I should go,” she sniffed. “It’s late. I’ve got a busy schedule tomorrow.” She turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.   
“Hermione…” he tried to grab her elbow, but she got away too fast, picked up her coat and scarf off the couch, took a pinch of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.   
“Thank you for everything, Draco,” not really looking at him, she mumbled her destination and was gone before he could reach her, before he could say good-bye, before he could tell her how much he enjoyed their time and not just their kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

5  
Draco felt like shit now. He felt alone. Cold. “God dammit!” he swore and punched the wall, which cracked under his force. Sparks of magic discharged at his blow and he shoved his hand angrily through his hair, chiding himself for not seeing this coming. He picked up his clothes and went into the bedroom, tossed them on the floor by the window. He rubbed his bloody knuckles but didn’t bother to use a healing spell. He felt he deserved some kind of punishment. His heart was growing heavy in his chest and an enormous icy knot formed in his stomach.   
Finding his belt already unbuckled brought back memories and gave him a sudden jolt. How she had turned him on. He couldn’t believe it. He wanted her back here with him. Now. He wanted to undress her, with him. He wanted her to share his shower, with him. He wanted her. He thought of her eyes, her beautiful chocolate eyes, how they’d become brighter and even more golden when they’d kissed. Her freckles, that ever so softly covered the bridge of her nose and along her cheek bones. Her pale pink lips. Her smile… Merlin, her smile… He undid his trousers, ripped them off annoyed and threw them across the room. “Fuck!” he yelled. Stripping off his socks he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He leaned his forehead again the cool tiles and took some calming breaths. Soon the bathroom was filled with steam; he took off his boxer briefs and stepped into the hot water of the shower. Thank god for small mercies he thought, enjoying the strong pressure of the water. He lathered up his hair with the provided shampoo, not caring right now, if it was up to his standards or not. Not that he usually cared about that anyway… it was shampoo after all. But Astoria always insisted he buy the expensive stuff. Thinking of Astoria made him want to vomit right here and now. He had to get this taken care of. ASAP.   
He stood there, a long time, with his eyes closed, just letting the water beat on his neck. He could still feel her lips on his. He could hear her small noises, her moans, the way she said his name. Christ, he loved it when she said his name. It warmed his heart and send shivers down his spine, like a million tiny kisses starting at the base of his skull, down his neck and on, spreading like wildfire. “Draco”, he heard her breathe it lovingly.   
Startled, he spun around and nearly slipped in the shower. His heart leaping in his chest, he turned off the water, grabbed the towel and stepped out. He draped the towel around his waist, not bothering with his sopping hair, “Hermione?” he called out. No answer.   
Draco walked into the bedroom and on to the living room. Her scent lingered in the air. The apartment was empty. “Hermione?” he called again, more softly now, realizing he had only imagined her voice.   
Something caught his eye and he bent to pick it up. He smelled it and inhaled her scent. Turning it in his hand he carried it into the bedroom and deposited it carefully on his bedside table. It was her golden spiral hair tie. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione hadn’t bothered getting dressed properly, before floo’ing back to her own flat at Hogwarts.   
Only one button held her blouse close. As soon as she was home though, only seconds later, her knees buckled, and she broke down on her plush oriental rug in front of the fireplace. She sobbed uncontrollably, eventually ending in hiccups. She felt stupid and humiliated, how he had taken advantage of her, kissing her hungrily making her want more and more, making her want him, making her succumb to his will, making her want to crawl inside of him, becoming one.   
Damn, so slick and cunning, playing her, stringing her along, so bloody Slytherin of him! She felt like an idiot for trusting him. She grabbed a pillow off her sofa, covered her face with it and let out a guttural scream. Coming up for air, she remembered his porcelain skin, his perfectly shaped lips, how soft they had touched hers, how their skins had tingled with magic when there hadn’t been the barrier of clothes between them anymore. The energy, the heat. She’d never felt anything like this before. Ever.   
She’d had her share of lovers, she wasn’t a wallflower by any means… her profession as a professor of Hogwarts and her general demeanor might suggest that, but far from her to refuse a proper shag when she had the chance!   
But Draco… wow. It had seemed more than that. She’d felt a different kind of connection. A link to their past. The way he looked at her, the things he’d confided in her, the disgust that flashed across his face when the topic had shortly turned to his wife. His wife. “Shit!!” she yelled again. This brought on fresh tears. She didn’t want this. She didn’t need this kind of trouble in her life. She broke down again, curled up on the rug and cried. She thought of his hands and how they’d fit hers. How his touch made her squirm and shiver with lust. How it had grabbed hold of her heart.  
Her tears ebbed away, and she got up, slowly, stumbled into her bedroom and undid the one button. Hanging up the blouse she caught his scent and buried her face in the silky piece of clothing, inhaling deeply. A hot tingle spread through her, settling in her heart. Tears ran down her cheeks once more as she took her shoes off and put them away. Her skirt came off, neatly replacing it in her closet, while her thin champagne coloured nylons were simply dropped by her low midcentury velvet club armchair. She crawled into bed, wrapped herself in her thick duvet, shivering, not caring about other bedtime bathroom routines, crying. Her gaze fell on her shimmering scar and instinctively she touched it with trembling fingertips… “Draco…” she whispered wistfully. She longed for his presence next to her in bed, holding her, just holding her. She longed for his voice, his scent. She longed to reach out and touch him, kiss him one more time, hungrily, deeply. Revealing her innermost hopes and dreams. What was she going to do? The turmoil inside her raging a destructive battle of “fuck it – just go with it” and “run as fast as you can”. Eventually she fell into an uneasy sleep… 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Groggy and grumpy she woke up, her hair a mess of curls and tangles around her face, still wearing her bra and groaning at a raging headache. The bra was cutting into her uncomfortably and she rose slowly. She startled herself seeing the horrific image looking back at her in the mirror. She reached for a strong headache relieve potion and went into the kitchen to make a double shot of espresso. Tousling her hair with both hands, she carefully combed through it with her fingers, building up courage for the nasty tasting potion. She slammed that first when she was back in the bathroom, then downed the espresso and started the shower. While the water was getting hot, she drenched a cotton pad with eye make-up remover and went to work on her blotched mascara, which had run down her cheeks in black streaks from last nights’ tears.   
Relieve washed over her as she stepped into the stream of hot water, inhaling the steam, attempting to have the heartache run down the drain.  
She felt much better after the shower, the potion and the espresso. She brushed her teeth twice, applied her usual amount of appropriate work make-up – no foundation, just accentuated her eyes with a slim line and two coats of mascara. After breakfast, she’d dap on some gloss. For now, just lip balm.   
She approved of her reflection, felt better for it and walked out into her bedroom to get dressed. 

Hermione went up to her office, before she intended to head down to have a spot of breakfast. She was grateful she hadn’t run into Cho yet, who had her office just a few doors down. It was still early. She alohamora’ed the door, stepped inside and closed it behind her. She gasped noisily and nearly had a heart attack when she saw Draco sitting in her armchair by the fireplace. She felt the colour rise in her cheeks, her knees buckling and such an adrenaline rush, she thought she would surely pass out any second. Deep breaths.  
He had his legs crossed, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. His expression was subdued.  
“What are you doing here?” Hermione demanded. “How’d you get in?” she asked unnecessarily.  
“I figured coming here was less intrusive than showing up at your flat unannounced,” Draco said quietly. “I floo’ed.”  
“Oh.” she said meekly. “Why are you here?” her voice much colder when she spoke this time. She didn’t know why she was acting so spiteful.   
He stood up, unfolding his tall self and her heart skipped a beat. He took a step towards her, she shrunk back, as if in fear. He immediately stopped his advance, reaching out his hand “Hermione… “  
“Don’t.” she begged.  
“Why did you run away?” he murmured.   
“Draco… “ she began, but couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. Gosh, he was so gorgeous, she could smell him, the fresh shower he must’ve taken only minutes before, the soap, the toothpaste. He hadn’t shaved, so a very faint stubble began to show. She wanted to jump him right here. Now. Her lust for him rolled over her like a wave and she felt herself quiver. Focus, Granger! Focus! 

There it was, she’d said his name again. It held such promise, such warmth, going straight to his heart. Draco could feel her resentment, though, her pain, saw it in her face, even though it was impeccably made up and would probably fool anyone, but not him. Not anymore.  
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she angrily brushed them away with the back of her hand. She had to create some distance, so she stepped behind her desk and put her chin up defiantly. “You’re married. I won’t be toyed with. End of story.”  
Her words broke him. Hit him like a punch in the gut. The icy knot returned with a vengeance. He dropped his head, looked at his shoes, and pushed his hands into his trouser pockets.   
Draco didn’t know how to reach her now. What to say? He knew that nothing he could say, would make the situation better. Nothing would make a difference. He simply had to fix it.   
His fingers curled around the hair tie in his pocket, he pulled it out and handed it to her.   
“I found this on the floor last night.” He said quietly.   
She took it. “Is that why you’re here? To return my hair tie?” she spat out.  
“No. Hermione. No!” he replied defensively. “I wanted to tell you how much last night meant to me, how much I…-”  
She interrupted him “Ah. Really? I’m not a quick fuck to sooth your battered married soul, Draco!” she spat. “I am not a wellness treatment. You can find that at any brothel.” She snapped angrily and then sighed heavily. “I think it’s best you leave.” Fresh tears streamed down her face.   
That stung, like a slap in the face. She thought he would use her like a common whore?   
He turned, stepped into the fireplace and hissed “It’s not like that Hermione!” and with a green swoosh, he was gone. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Draco was furious! He paced his office up and down, barked non-stop at his staff to stay away from him, cancelled his meetings in Scotland at the last second and offended his mother Narcissa by refusing to see her. Why did she show up here unannounced anyway?  
He had to talk to Hermione. He needed to see her again. Needed to explain. Earlier around noon he’d sent an owl with a short message that he wanted to speak with her. The owl had returned not too long ago with a similar short answer of “I’m sorry, I can’t”.   
The sun was setting now, great clouds were tearing in places, exposing glorious colours. These were the things he wanted to share with her! Fucking sunsets! Dammit! How could he make her see? He hadn’t eaten all day. Nothing sounded good. Beer. Beer sounded good. His anxiety was skyrocketing, the bloody scar ached and he needed to get some air. He walked the short distance to the muggle pub, ordered a pint of Stella Artois and sat in a dingy corner, popping some nuts into his mouth. Not that he frequented these muggle establishments often, but tonight it seemed appropriate, he needed to get in the right mindset. It was Hermione after all. Muggle-born witch par excellence. He didn’t know nearly enough about Muggle- … anything really. The little business he did with Muggles wasn’t enough to really gain proper insight. And the few muggle-born friends he’d made over the years he hadn’t wanted to pry.  
He couldn’t come up with a perfect solution, pondering various scenarios, going back over every single detail of their short clash this morning. Her refusal to see him. Memories of last night spiked his thoughts, bringing his heartrate up, making the mark tingle. He tilted his head back against the wood paneled wall and contemplated his next step.   
There was a meeting scheduled with her and Slughorn a fortnight from now, to finalize the details of her project. He’d have to make sure to catch her alone afterwards. He remembered the castle inside out. Something with Slytherin access only came to mind. He hoped it was still there after Hogwarts had been rebuilt in 1998. Why hadn’t he kept track of that? He ordered his third pint and formulated a plan. But damn, two weeks! He’d simply have to wing it with Granger. Go with his gut.

Hermione’s day went by in a blur. She had briefly spoken with Cho, giving her the outlines of the meeting, but nothing else. Cho had tried to drill information out of her, but Hermione refused to budge and had successfully evaded all her questions without detection. Not that she didn’t trust Cho to keep a secret, Hermione was just not ready to reveal or analyze her feelings yet. Too soon. She had to sort it out for herself first.   
It had taken all of her will power this morning to remain strong, resist the temptation to take his hand and let him draw her in. She had been so happy to see him. She had wanted nothing more than to throw herself at him and be back in his arm, smell him, taste him, inhale him.   
She felt drained now, hadn’t eaten and wasn’t hungry either. It was just passed five and she was supposed to grade papers. She had avoided her office all day as well, of fear that his aura might have remained. Instead she had stayed in the classroom or gone to the library. The owl around noon had flustered her and had brought on a fresh wave of doubts. She’d have to stay strong though. She couldn’t let this happen. Not like this.   
Here she was now, schlepping her heavy bag and an arm full of books into her flat and dropped it all on her couch. She locked the door and cast a light silencing spell on her home, just in case. She also locked the access to the fireplace, so no unannounced visitors could enter.   
Hermione opened the large French doors and a light breeze brushed her face and she closed her eyes to inhale deeply. Inhale the good shit, exhale the bullshit. A muggle saying, very appropriate to her right now.   
Hanging up her robes and taking off her shoes, she slipped into a pair of thick woolen socks, went into the kitchen and pushed the button for the kettle. She chose an herbal tea, a concoction of chamomile and oat flower, fennel seed and marshmallow root. She needed to unwind, relax and unburden her mind. Be in the moment, Hermione. Breathe. She took her steaming cup out to the patio, sat in one of her cushioned chairs and put her feet up. The sun was still well up there, but this being Scotland after all, she covered herself in a thick blanket and pulled her knees closer to her chin.   
Now that she was able to delve into her thoughts without distraction, she wondered what she was going to do. She couldn’t get over the fact, that they’d kissed, and she’d let it happen. He was married still. Yet, she had clearly wanted it. Had she encouraged it? She wasn’t a home wrecker, despite how bad the Malfoy’s situation was. She also only just “met” Draco again, after all this time, and Hermione wasn’t sure if she could trust him. He clearly had changed, but does one really change?   
All she knew now, was that she’d felt perfectly secure in his arms. He would let no harm whatsoever come to her; she was sure of that. And there’d been this extremely strong pull between them, like magnets not being able to keep away from the other.   
She watched the birds and the treetops, the cloud movement and faintly heard the students outside in a distance.   
In order to make an educated decision she decided that she needed to get to know him better. Spend more time with him…   
When it was getting too cool for comfort, she went back inside, closed the doors, cast a quick heating spell and went back into the kitchen. She made another tea, a nighttime one this time, grabbed some nuts and a slice of cheese and headed for bed.   
Hermione felt that she hadn’t really overreacted that morning. She had been a bit too harsh maybe… and she made a mental note to apologize to him for that. And she felt good about refusing to see him, knowing that she would melt like a flipping candle in his presence. She’d have to remain focused. For now.   
She was very much looking forward to seeing him again in two weeks’ time. That thought brought on immediate butterflies and with a pang she remembered his kisses, his hands all over her. When he had cupped her breast and gently played with her nipple, Christ, she closed her eyes and marveled at the memory, her scar prickling ever so softly. These contradicting emotions were driving her mental!  
But she really wanted to reach out for him, breathe in every inch of him. She wanted to place a million kisses all over his body, starting with his perfectly shaped lips, down his long neck, careful of his Adam’s apple, licking the hollow where his collar bones met, down his chest, teasing him. She wanted to grab his tight little bum, spark his eagerness, hear him swear under his breath when she’d slip her fingers under the waistband of his briefs to pull them down and expose his gorgeous circumcised manhood… Hermione let out a frustrated groan of unfulfilled extasy and wished him here. Her scar began to tingle again, and she touched it lightly, caressing it as if it was Draco doing it. She noticed that the touch seemed to increase the shimmer. She relished in the alluring feeling that spread through her body… “Draco” she whispered. 

Draco walked into his small bedroom at the office undoing his tie and kicked off his shoes. He was positively pissed. He’d forgotten how potent muggle beer was and he’d had nearly four and a half pints in a short time. He held on to the back of the chair on the way to the bathroom with one hand and rubbed his tired eyes with the other. He hadn’t had anything proper to eat either. Not that he’d been hungry. But that explained the dizziness, he was sure. He still felt like crap, though, so other than a weak plan, his excursion into the muggle world hadn’t accomplished anything.   
He steadied himself against the wall and then held onto the sink for support when he reached the bathroom. He really needed to have a slash.   
After he had satisfyingly relieved himself for what seemed endless minutes, he splashed water on his face, then rummaged in the drawer for a hang-over potion, found the vial filled with green liquid and tilting his head back, gulped that down in one swift swallow.   
It usually kicked in rather quickly, but he wanted to make sure and stayed at the sink for a bit longer staring at himself in the mirror.   
“Draco” he heard his name and jerked his head around. Not again, he thought. She’s not here, man. His mark began to sting, and he pushed up his sleeve further. His scare was coming to life. It prickled and shimmered and he heard it again… “Draco” this time drawn out, a bit hoarse, like a lover’s throaty whisper. The tingling intensified, flowing through his body and settling in his groin, his heart now pumping wildly. “Bloody hell, Granger!” he called out as his shaft stiffened and his need for her grew. He touched his scar, caressed it, relished in the arousing feeling that spread through his body like red-hot flames. He held his arm cradled like a child against him abdomen, thoroughly frustrated and confused. He wanted to hold her. Caress her. Kiss her. Love her. This stupid mark was infuriating!   
Draco went back into the bedroom and undressed. The tingling stayed, as if it was a connection between them, that needed to remain alive. He wondered if she’d felt that, too. He needed to ask her about it.  
He had to do some research on the whole subject. Maybe their next date could be to the library! What a genius idea, he smiled to himself, feeling awfully smug. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Two more weeks… He dropped into bed, dreaming of Hermione’s lips and what it would feel like to have them close around his manhood, her wet tongue and the heat of her mouth, playing with him, licking and moving up and down on the head, her right hand curled around him, keeping him up and pumping wildly, while the other was toying with his balls ... Christ, Hermione! He thought, as his hand slipped under the covers. He needed to take care of this erection.

Alarmed, Hermione opened her eyes wide and sat up straight in bed. She was sure she’d heard his voice. “Bloody hell, Granger!” he’d groaned. That was impossible! She was imagining things. She was too aroused and inside her phantasies to be of sound mind. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. What sort of magic was this?  
Her scar looked like some viscous glittery liquid inside her forearm, showing as if through opaque glass. It scared her a bit, but it felt so bloody good at the same time… so she lay back down and closed her eyes, sleep coming over her quickly, her phantasy of her exploring his body continuing. The last thing she remembered thinking was that she needed to do some research on this scar thing, but much more pressingly now … giving him a blowjob. “Christ, Hermione!” she heard him say and smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

6  
The next two weeks dragged on. Hermione’s longing for Draco came in waves like the ocean tide, usually at night, some nights fiercer than others. During the days she threw herself into her work even more than usual, like she had done when she was going through her divorce, needing distraction more than anything. Cho had become suspicious and Hermione had confided that Draco was messing with her head, but that she needed some time to figure things out. Cho was always there for her and even now as they were sitting next to each other in the teacher’s lounge after classes had finished for the day, Cho reached out to squeeze her hand, planted a kiss on her cheek and got up to leave.   
“Come on, Mione. You need to blow off some steam. Enough work for today.” She pulled her out of her chair. “Let’s see who’s going to hit the two-mile mark first!” Cho’s face broke into a huge smile and Hermione decided she couldn’t let a challenge of this magnitude pass.   
“Fine!” She smiled, grateful for her friends’ instincts, knowing exactly what would lift her spirits and get her head back on right.   
With a quick wave of their wands they transfigured their work attire to gym clothes in the witches locker room. They waved at Neville, who was busy with weights, and walked over to give him a quick hug hello.   
“I got an owl from Seamus earlier. He says hi. He’s got a meeting in Abu Dhabi this week, he’ll send pictures of the new tower he’s building there.”   
“Another one? The Sheik must like him!” Hermione said excitedly.  
“He does! He’s commissioned another two buildings.”  
“That’s wonderful! We must get together again soon!” Cho said enthusiastically. She did have a soft spot for Seamus… maybe her time would come, too.   
“I’ll tell him. Won’t be for another month, tough… that guy is so busy. All the time. I don’t know how he does it…” Neville shook his head and went back to his weights.   
Hermione and Cho did a quick warm up on the elliptical machines and took up their spots on side by side rowing machines.   
“Three… two… one… GO!” they sped off and soon were breathing heavy, sweat starting to pour and Hermione could feel some of the stress and worries leave her body… this was exactly what she’d needed. She forgot about her scar tingling at odd moments, reminding her painfully of Draco. She’d heard his voice a few times these past days and it made her long for his company. Soon… 

Draco had successfully avoided run-ins with Astoria. Not that they usually spend much time together. If at all. He’d stayed in his office turned temporary sleeping quarters most of the time, certainly every night, and had worked dawn ‘til dusk most days. He was determined to make Hermione’s project a huge success, while still keeping his other clients happy.   
Two days ago, he had finalized Scorpius’ flat in Battersea. The move was scheduled for this weekend.   
Hermione was on his mind all the time. His upbringing had taught him not only to dismiss muggle-borns and even half-bloods as inferior but as worthless creatures. Hate and discrimination had ruled, and he’d triumphantly done that in his time at Hogwarts as a student, when his fathers’ hand was securely guiding his every move. Until Lucius had been locked up in Azkaban and Draco had been left to fend for himself, had been forced to start thinking for himself and had thus found flaws in the formerly perfect world of loathing. With his family’s devastating fall from grace they had to reevaluate these notions, yet his parents had insisted on his pure-blood marriage to ensure the line. It had also helped the family back on their feet a bit quicker, Astoria’s family, the Greengrass’ being rather influential in the Wizarding Community of Britain. Unquestionably, Astoria was a gorgeous woman, and especially in the beginning he had enjoyed their mating rituals immensely, but soon it had become clear that her beauty was simply a shell covering up an extremely ugly and vicious personality. That was something Draco had started to resent more and more over the years, not being able to overlook her faults any longer.   
As Scorpius grew older and suffered visibly from his mothers’ venomous and frenzied, sometimes violent outbursts, he had soon sought refuge with his father, the two of them growing extremely close before Scorpius had gone off to Hogwarts. Not every Slytherin had a nasty personality and his son was living proof of it. He was kind and soft spoken, yet lacking none of the Slytherin cunning, shrewdness and ambition. All that without ever being meanspirited. Draco was rather proud of his accomplishments as a father and even Lucius had complimented him on it on several occasions. Narcissa had also recognized her mistake rather early on in arranging this marriage and doted on her grandson any chance she got. Neither Lucius, not Narcissa would have encouraged a divorce, but were secretly glad to finally see this torment end, Draco was sure. Too much drama, even for Narcissa’s taste, who loved a good gossip filled afternoon with her ladies.   
And Hermione was most certainly not inferior or worthless. He’d realized that 20 years ago. But Draco had lacked the kind of courage to actively step out of his comfort zone then and tell her. He had tried. When he’d met her at the coffee shop at Uni. It hadn’t been a failure really, more of nudge in the right direction. Still it had taken time. He had slowly started befriending people from other Hogwarts houses. Did business with muggle-born and half-bloods all the time now. He’d found some of their ideas inspiring and very rewarding and made solid friendships. And he had very much stepped out of his comfort zone by venturing into the muggle world every now and then. He’d found inspiration there to implement into his work with wizarding technology.   
He had been contemplating all this, going back and forth, weighing options.   
Right now, he was getting rather agitated, though. It would still be a few days before he’d get to finally see her again, speak with her, smell her. Hopefully, he’d get a chance to explain. Even more than that he hoped she would allow him to taste her again. Christ, he needed to get rid of some of this pent-up energy inside him.   
He rode the elevator up to the top floor of his office building, entered the gym and changed. He hit the punching bag until the sweat poured, his lungs hurt, and his fists couldn’t take any more abuse. It felt good to let go, though. There was a tiny light at the end of the this very dark tunnel. And he couldn’t wait to lay his hands on her again. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Their meeting was scheduled for three o’clock in Slughorn’s office. Hermione despised being late, so she showed up at ten to three and was surprised and immediately annoyed, that Draco was already there, deep in an animated conversation with the headmaster.   
“Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness.” The headmaster was musing. “Just like our house motto, Mr. Malfoy. I hope you don’t mind, if I congratulate myself on bringing your company and Ms. Granger together on this venture!”   
“Not at all headmaster, not at all!” Draco laughed.   
“What a splendid accomplishment on my part, if I do say so myself!” the headmaster beamed mischievously, rubbing his hands together.   
Slughorn smiled broadly and got up out of his deep leather headmasters’ chair when he saw Hermione step into his office. “Ah, here she is,” he exclaimed happily, raising his arms to embrace her in a warm hug of welcome. “Our wonderful Ms. Granger!” he sang.  
Hermione blushed, returning his embrace “Thank you, Sir.”.   
Draco had left his seat as well, pulling her chair out. “Hello Hermione, good to see you,” he smiled. He extended his hand and was rewarded with that tingling feeling when their hands touched. Their eyes locked for a second too long, but the headmaster didn’t seem to have noticed or was too oblivious to read anything into it. Either way, he certainly didn’t comment on it.   
Hermione’s heart caught in her throat again as soon as they’d touched, and she was sure Draco had felt the same way. She quickly poured some water from the nearby decanter and took a drink to deflect from her embarrassment.   
“Bit thirsty, Ms. Granger?” the headmaster grinned.   
“Yes, Sir. My apologies,” she stammered and licked her lips.  
Draco looked at her from the side. She was so cute when she was flustered. She shot him an angry look and he recoiled immediately but was quite amused.   
The meeting was over fast, both Hermione and Draco had taken turns filling Slughorn in and he agreed to Draco’s terms without question, plainly trusting them to see this project through, ‘no need for his interference’ as he phrased it.   
“Can I have a word, Hermione” Draco inquired, as he followed her out of the headmaster’s office, down the wide corridor.   
“I was hoping to speak to you as well, actually.” She replied relieved.   
“Fantastic!” he quickened his steps, down towards the dungeons.   
“Where are you going?” Hermione asked confused but hurried to keep up with him.  
“You’ll see.” He almost reached for her hand but thought better of it. Best not start the gossip too early.   
They reached the Entrance Hall and headed for a door on the right side, which led to the Slytherin Common Room and dorms. With classes in session there were no students about, but they heard a shuffling of feet behind them, so they quickly disappeared down the stone steps leading deep into the dungeons, unseen. After three landings they came upon a corridor, that was quite narrow, compared to the large airy ones above ground. Torches illuminated the space every 20 feet or so. Before they reached the Slytherin common room, Draco stopped in front of a bare stretch of wall and slid his open hand in a diagonal curve from top to bottom over the smooth stone.   
The stones opened inward to reveal a storage room, full of discarded Slytherin furniture, broken lamps, and memorabilia.   
He finally reached out and took her hand, dragging her in after him.   
Her heart skipped a beat and held on to his hand for dear life.   
“Don’t be afraid,” he said reassuringly. “You’re safe with me, don’t you know?” and that initial feeling, she had been pondering after their make-out session two weeks prior, returned. Oddly, she did feel safe, and against her will, quite giddy.   
The door closed softly behind them.   
“I thought this may be less conspicuous than going up to your flat” he said, looking at her as if asking for her approval.   
“What makes you think I would have invited you into my flat?” she observed quietly, but then added, “I didn’t even know this room existed…” looking around in awe.   
Draco smiled happily at knowing something she didn’t. “There’s only this one hidden room down here. Not many know about it. I saw Snape disappear into it once, must’ve been our fourth year, maybe third… anyway, I’ve used it every now and then”.  
“As a love nest? With Pansy?” Hermione wondered aloud.   
“Well…” he evaded. Had he heard a slight jab of jealousy mingle in her words?  
Hermione snorted.   
An awkward silence crept up on them and he shuffled his feet not knowing now where to begin. He was alone with her. Finally. Now what?   
“Look…” they both said in unison and smiled, breaking the ice.   
“You go first” Hermione urged.   
“Okay.” he whispered. Taking a deep breath, he brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed them. “I’m sorry about the other night.” Hermione’s heart sank. “I mean… I’m not sorry at all!” he added quickly. “Don’t get me wrong.” He needed to collect his thoughts. Bloody hell! This was more difficult than he expected. “I know what you’re worried about, Hermione. I’m not like that. I don’t go round breaking witches hearts left and right, cheating habitually. Please believe me.” He paused. “Astoria and I are finished. Have been for a long time. I absolutely loved that night in Edinburgh. It was perfect. More perfect than you could ever imagine. I didn’t want it to end. Ever.” The words just spewed out of him.  
“I didn’t either.” She admitted quietly looking down. “I’ve never felt anything like this. Not with anyone…” her eyes rose to meet his and he bend down slowly to kiss her. Their lips touched softly at first, warm and inviting. His hands came up to cup her cheeks and she stepped closer, so their bodies were one again, her hands on his chest, then finding their way to his waist and the small of his back, to his tight little bum. Merlin, she loved exploring his body, feeling his kiss become more urgent, his teeth pulling her bottom lip before going back in for more.   
“Gosh, I adore your arse,” she hissed and squeezed it before her right hand moved to the front and cupping his manhood in her hand. He promptly complied, swelling quickly and growing harder by the second. Her left hand had traveled to his hair, their kiss growing hotter, needier.   
“Christ, Hermione…” he broke their kiss reluctantly, speaking while his mouth was still on hers. “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. I can’t think of anything else anymore. It’s always you. And this fucking tingling!” he burst out.   
“It bloody tingles all the time!!” she breathed heavily. “I don’t know exactly what it is yet, but it makes me ache for you. Insanely.” She went up on her toes and kissed him quickly, before dropping to her knees and fumbling with his belt.  
“No, please… I won’t be able to stop.” he pleaded and sighed pulling her up by her elbows. “Fuck!” he called out and took a step back.   
Hermione moved forward, “I don’t want you to stop, Draco.” She whispered and advanced further, almost there.   
“Yes, you do,” argued Draco. “This is not what you want.” He kissed her. “Not here.”  
Their kiss slowed, became less urgent, more sensual. She kissed the perfectly shaped top lip and nibbled on the bottom one, licking, enticing. “Draco…”  
He closed his eyes, completely absorbed in her care of him, he relished every second, never had anyone taken care of him. He didn’t expect her to unbutton his sleeve, but she pushed it up to expose the mark-turned-whatever-it-was… She brought his arm up to her mouth and when her breath touched it and then her lips, the tip of her tongue drawing tiny circles, Draco felt like his heart was about to burst. His eyes shot open and he stepped back to steady himself against a stack of old emerald green sofas. He had never felt anything like this. He never had an erection this massive and involuntarily reached down to rub it.   
Her right hand was holding his arm in place against the couches and caressing the mark gently. She placed her left hand on top of his right, to encourage his selfcare. “Yes…” she breathed… her soft breath tickled the mark even more and he let out a long guttural groan.   
“Hermione, I need you…” he begged. Oh, how she loved him voice this. Her heart already hammering in her chest, skipped a beat and she couldn’t believe she was doing this, watching herself as from afar, she let go of him to strip off her panties and returned to make short work of his belt. His hands started frantically helping her, pulling down his trousers and briefs to pool by his feet, he hiked up her skirt, then lifted her up, turned around and now in perfect position to impale her against this emerald green mountain of velvet and tassel trim. The magic between them was tangible and crackled like red hot embers. Hermione gasped and put her arms around his neck.  
“Are you sure, Love?” he panted. “We can still stop.” No, you can’t, man. Who do you think you are?!  
“Are you crazy? Don’t you dare!” she commanded, and he let her slide down onto him, slowly. “Bloody hell!” he quaked into her neck. “You’re so wet… Holy fuck!” and began to move. He had one hand pressed against the couches next to her ear and she held on tight to him, moving with him, their bodies fitting perfectly. He loved how she could take all of him and savored every one of her moans and squeaks, her enthusiasm, the way she urged him on to not be gentle.   
“Oh yes, Draco, YES!” she squealed, tightening her legs around him and riding him into oblivion. He couldn’t believe his stamina, his power, the ease with which he shagged her silly, going on and on, bringing her closer and closer to the edge and then feeling his glutes contracting and his balls tightening, he shoved into her a few more times, before exploding and taking her with him into an orgasm he’d never known before. He could feel her contracting around his shaft, her legs so tight around him and not moving, her clit pressed hard into his pubic bone and her head back, exposing that beautiful, beautiful neck.   
He saw a smile appear on her lips and he bend forward to kiss her chin, making no move to disentangle them.   
“Wow…” she said breathlessly.  
“Yeah…” he agreed.  
He dropped his head against her forehead, recovering his breath for another moment and then slowly setting her down. He bent down to pull up his briefs and trousers but didn’t bother to button yet.   
Her knees buckled when she tried to take a step and she placed her head against his back to find her strength again. He turned carefully and kissing the top of her head, he held her for a long time.   
When at last they broke apart, she picked up her undies, performed a quick cleansing spell and dressed halfheartedly.   
Hermione reached out, took his hand and with a small pop they disapparated into her flat.


	7. Chapter 7

7  
Hermione’s flat was light and uncluttered. The old castle walls had been whitewashed in here to allow for the historic charm to seep through while giving it a contemporary updated feeling. Her sitting room seemed to be a combination of library and cosy living space. Bookshelves filled half of one wall and continued in an L-shape along the adjacent wall, framing the door to her bedroom. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and he caught a glimpse of the simple lines of her low-profile bed. The frame was stained in a warm, dark brown with black undertones, while the headboard, inside its dark frame, was upholstered a crisp, clean white. The bedding was plush, a sophisticated palette of taupe and silvery pearl with a paisley pattern. How very Hermione. Classic and understated. Elegant. Just as he liked it.   
Her cream coloured sofa, and a matching set of two small contemporary track armchairs, sat on opposite sides on a large oriental rug in Gryffindor colours of dark scarlet and gold with maroonish swirls. The gold thread shimmered here and there and matched the hues of the room’s decor perfectly. The couch was backed by a narrow sideboard holding a table lamp and a thriving leafy plant along with some books.   
There were some large volumes on her coffee table, which sat in between the couch and chairs, as well as a few scented candles releasing a clean, citrussy scent into the space. She’d set up a deep armchair with a matching ottoman in the corner by the bookshelves with a small round table beside it.   
One felt immediately comfortable in her home.   
Draco walked over to the large window admiring her view. He noticed a silver tray holding a decanter filled with an amber liquid on another tall sideboard placed against the wall by the window. Two lamps flanked the tray, while a mirror hung above it. Two glasses were begging to be poured. He appreciated the sets’ simple design, a bit curvier than his own, more female in a sense. He took the liberty to undo the top, poured two glasses of Scotch and carried one over to her.  
“Thank you” she said taking the glass.  
“This is not what I wanted, Hermione.”  
“Yes, it was.” She argued and drank.  
Draco harrumphed. “It was bloody brilliant though.” he smirked.   
“That it certainly was…” she said quietly.  
“How did you know about … you know… the scar thing?”  
“I didn’t.” She swirled the golden liquid in her glass. “I know it’s old magic. I haven’t had time to do any proper research on it, but I figured it sort of played a part. Did you like it?” she asked innocently, looking up at him from under her long black lashes. She hoped her wariness wouldn’t show. She was afraid she may not have been a good enough lover for him. Maybe he’d soon remember that he’d just shagged a muggle-born. That he would then return to his entitled self, feeling superior to her. It couldn’t be off too much longer before he called her Mudblood again. An icy knot formed in her stomach. Dammit, Granger!! Hermione hated how these stupid doubts crept up on her, like Dementors … Breathe. If it happens you can deal with it. You can deal with anything. Whatever he throws at you. You’re strong.   
“Did I like it?” he took a swig of his whisky. “Christ, that was the most connected I’ve felt to anyone in my life! Bloody hell, I’ve never had a hard-on like this, and that …” he paused, his mind clearly searching for words. “… that overpowering need for us. It felt like I was about to explode, and it wouldn’t stop. That force. Like an itch you have to scratch! On and on.”  
Hermione smiled, blushing at the memory. The icy knot melted away and made room for a soft golden light, warming her. She took a sip of whisky.   
“You said us…” she said hopefully.   
“Yes, US.” He declared excitedly. ”It wasn’t about shagging. Not in that sense.” He pondered that thought for a moment. “I don’t know how to explain it properly. It was more about … needing to unite with you. Become one with you.” After another second, he said, “needing to become – us.” He seemed puzzled.   
Hermione thought on his words. So she’d been right in her assumption, their scars did have a connection.  
“I thought I’d heard you a few times these past weeks.” She said after a minute.   
Draco’s head turned to look at her “I thought I’d heard YOU!” he shot back. “I could’ve sworn you were right there with me. You whispered my name. In a throaty kind of way, as if we were making love.”  
Hermione’s eyes became wide. “Oh, my Lord! When I touch my scar, the tingling, it … it felt as if you were touching me. And I had the mad desire to pleasure you… “she trailed off.   
“Holy shit, I dreamed of that!” he spat out.   
Draining her glass, she went to pour another one. Her head was swimming, trying to rationalize what was happening here. She had found out there was old magic, ancient rituals, to bind people together. Like a magical seal of sorts. She had to find out more about that… time to head to the library! In a little while…   
He came up behind her, holding out his own glass and she filled a decent measure.   
Draco sat on the couch and took off his shoes. He leisurely set his right foot on the soft cushions, left the other on the floor, creating an opening for her to sit in. Hermione accepted his invitation willingly, snuggled her back against his chest and pulled her warm plaid over her. Draco brought his other foot up, their legs now entangled under her blanket. He adjusted them a bit and with her head resting against his right shoulder, he kissed her forehead.  
“Earlier… before we… you know… I wanted to apologize for being snappy with you that morning. In my office.” She said.  
“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t fair to catch you off guard like that.”  
“I did mean, what I said, though.” Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. “Bit late now, but I … I can’t.” She broke off.   
They sat in silence for a while, he held her, breathing her in, and she could feel his heartbeat through his shirt.   
Hermione found her Gryffindor courage again “I refuse to play second fiddle.” She said under her breath. “To anyone.”  
“I know.” He said into her hair. His lips stayed there, planting little kisses, then bringing her chin up with his hand he kissed her softly. “I know. I have to fix this. I’m working on it. I promise.”  
He kissed her again and Hermione’s lips parted slightly, her tongue tenderly finding his. She turned around and knelt between his legs, kissing him hungrily. His groin tightened and responded immediately. He returned her kisses with equal urgency feeling this energy field building again. Hermione made to straddle him, but instead he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, never breaking their kiss.   
He sat her down in front of her bed and slowly undid her top. He tried so hard to remain calm this time, one button at a time. “I can’t stand these bloody things,” he mumbled.   
She smiled and waited patiently, raising her hands to cup his face, softly brushing his lower lip with her thumb. How she adored him as his frown lines deepened in his frustrated concentration. She pulled him down to a gentle kiss. Kicking off her ballerinas and shrugging off her skirt, then kicking that over towards where her shoes had landed. She stood silently in her champagne coloured cheekies, letting him work, a thrilling excitement washing over her emanating from her translucent scar. She felt his arousal rising in that same spot on her arm, as if a switch had been flipped on and two magnets were about to be pulled together again.   
His belt still hung loose from earlier, so all she had to do was pop the button of his trousers. He stepped out of them, she tossed them aside and successfully created a neat pile of discarded clothes on the floor by the low velvet chair.   
Finally, he slipped her blouse off her shoulders, exposing the matching balconette bra, him admiring her perfect décolleté. He went down on his knees, surprising her, kissing he belly, caressing her back and expertly snapping the closure of her bra open. “Yes…” he groaned as the bra fell away and her round breasts bounced out, awarding him free access to her glorious nipples. They were perfect he thought, small, hard as marbles, a bit pointy and of the most luscious shade of dark rosy pink. “Bloody Hell, Hermione… “ he whispered as his breath touched the delicate skin.   
Hermione gasped and moaned as his lips closed around the flawless circle. Her hand was in his hair, her eyes closed. Draco turned his head, licked her scar and Hermione’s eyes flew open “Oh my God!” she squealed, her knees buckling and taking a step back to lean on her bed. “Don’t stop… oh fuck! Don’t stop!” she begged, sliding up on top on her duvet and pulling him with her. Draco quickly ripped his shirt off, added it to the pile in one swift motion. He scooted her up a bit higher onto her king-size bed, straddling her.   
“This is what I want” he hissed and brought his mouth to hers. “You’re mine. Mine.” He nibbled her lips as he said it, Hermione barely coherent in a trance of overbearing arousal. Her body was on fire, tingling all over, aching for his every touch. And he knew it, and felt it, too. Moving his left hand down her body, Draco reached between her legs delicately stroking her sensitive spot with his thumb, looking her straight in the eyes while he tortured her so sweetly. “Draco…” she gasped. “I can’t take this anymore. I need you in me.” She quaked. “Now… Please.” She begged. “Draco, please!”  
He smiled and with both hands helped her out of her undies. Preparing himself as well, he stripped, balled up both their undergarments, making them the crowning jewel of the clothes pile.   
Hermione hadn’t yet actually seen him and gawked at his size and beauty. She hadn’t realized how well built he was, but it had deliciously fit her earlier. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and the butterflies in her tummy at the prospect of him inside her again.   
“Look at what you’re doing to me. It’s never been this huge!” he said a bit shyly, but smug with a pinch of pride.   
“It’s magnificent” she complimented and giggled excitedly.   
Slowly, very slowly Draco bend down to kiss her, softly, gently, licking her lips. His hands slid down her body, massaged her breasts, then his lips followed, biting her nipples carefully. She let out tiny high-pitched sounds and Draco couldn’t get enough of it. Further down her body his kisses went until he reached her mound and getting down on his knees in front of the bed, he spread her legs with both hands and ever so gently blew a cool breath on her. Hermione gasped and felt his tongue on her just a second later. Hermione saw stars as he continued his exploration of her softness, licking and probing. Kissing, making her squirm and beg until she broke apart, grabbing her duvet with iron fists and convulsing as the rush of her release surged through her in hot waves.  
Draco smiled. His heart was about to burst with an overwhelming feeling of … Love. The realization struck him like thunder. And he felt a sense of pride in having been able to woo her and possibly having started to convince her of his changed self.   
This time he made love to her. Consciously. Fully aware of who they were and what consequences this would have. 

Hermione lay spooned into him, her head on his arm. He was holding her in a sweet embrace, breathing quietly into her hair. Her wonderful curls around his shoulders and neck, he reveled in that feeling. The thick duvet covered them warmly, the heat in their cocoon creating a blissful drowsiness. Neither of them moved.   
The feeling of being completely safe returned, and Hermione never wanted this to end. A curious possessiveness seeped in, grabbing hold of her heart. As if on cue Draco’s embrace tightened slightly, the feeling seemingly mutual.  
“Look” he said huskily, but Hermione had been watching all along.   
From here they could see the sky turning darker, pastel hues gradually blending into shades of indigo.  
Her muggle phone buzzed on the table in the living room, ripping Hermione out of her reverie. She didn’t bother getting up though, untangling from him was such an unpleasant thought, she pushed it away, turning towards him instead.  
“It’s nearly eight. Are you hungry?”  
“Not really. Thirsty though…” He sat up a bit, conjured a bottle of water and drank from it longingly, then handed it to her. She took it gladly, brought it to her lips and nearly choked when she heard her fireplace roar and someone stepping out of it calling her name.  
“Hermione?” It was Harry.  
They both bolted upright, Hermione quickly brushing the spilled water from her lip, before Harry came bursting in, calling again “Hermione?!”  
He stopped dead in his tracks and stared. His jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” Harry exclaimed. Harry had never seen two people more flabbergasted in his life. It was quite hilarious really. Draco’s hair was a mess, completely tousled from their tumble in bed, Hermione’s pretty much the same only curlier. Both their faces were flushed in embarrassment, but with a touch of pride and protectiveness over the other. Harry certainly had never expected to see Malfoy in such a compromising position.   
“What are you doing here, Harry?” Hermione stammered.   
“Bloody hell, Potter!” Draco thundered.   
“You promised you’d call and tell me about the meeting!” Harry burst out. “I was worried! Ginny, too. You were flipping out the other day. That was two weeks ago! You ignored our calls, our texts. We were bloody worried!” The words spilled out of him. ”But I see you’ve got it covered. Dealt with it in a different way, huh?!” Harry surmised grinning from ear to ear.   
“I was - busy.” Hermione said defensively. “I was trying to figure it out…“ She looked at Draco, he in return frowned at her and said “We’ll be out in a minute, Potter” dismissing him.   
Harry turned and closed the door behind him.   
Hermione awkwardly untangled from her bed, tip toed naked into her bathroom and splashed water on her face. Draco followed on her heels, tucking up his briefs while walking.   
“Still got Potter checking up on you? Hovering like a helicopter. Weaslebee gonna be here soon?” he fumed.   
“Shut up Draco!”   
“Don’t look now,” he said and peed.  
“You’re gonna learn to sit peeing, I promise you that!” she spat and left to get dressed. She could hear him chuckle behind her.   
She smiled as she walked to her wardrobe, chose a straightforward set of bra and panty, high-waisted leggings, a simple t-shirt and a long cardigan. She pulled on her thick woolen socks and watched Draco use his wand to unwrinkle his suit and get dressed and was ready to meet Harry just a few seconds later.   
Taking her hand, he kissed her quickly and pulling her into the living room behind him they faced Harry. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

“Surprise!” Harry called good naturedly as they entered. He was rather impressed though, how Malfoy seemed to own the situation. Everyone knew he was married, if unhappily, which was public knowledge as well. Still, Harry couldn’t suppress the humungous grin. “I can honestly say, of all the scenarios I’ve come up with, THIS certainly wasn’t one of them!” he burst out laughing. Again.   
“Ha. Ha. Potter. Very funny,” Draco snarled.  
Hermione laid a hand on his arm, connecting to his scar through his shirt. She hoped this would calm him a bit. He seemed awfully tense.   
Harry ignored Draco’s insecurity, instead addressing them both, “So, the project’s a go then?!”  
“Yeah… Draco’s been doing a marvelous job…” trailing off, Hermione tried to stay focused, but burst out laughing, too, blushing crimson. “This came out totally wrong. Oh gosh, Harry! How embarrassing! Draco and I…” covering her face with her hands, she curled into Draco chest and he embraced her in a protective hug.   
“Mione, don’t worry. I won’t spill the beans on you two.” Looking Draco square in the face though as he said it.   
“I know what I’ve got to do, mate.” Draco seemed to relax a fraction. “Hermione and I are figuring it out as we go along, okay?”  
“Is that okay for you, Hermione?” Harry inquired.  
“It’s…“ she paused. Her next words came out a bit pained. “Draco knows I won’t be pushed to the back burner.”  
“We haven’t really gotten into the details yet. It only just happened,” Draco said a bit defensively.   
Harry’s face took on a serious and stony expression “If you hurt her, I WILL find you, Malfoy!” he threatened.   
“I WON’T hurt her, Potter,” Draco growled with gritted teeth.  
“How’s your scar?” Harry wondered, turning his gaze on Hermione. Her eyes met Draco’s and bewildered Harry looked from one to the other and back again when Hermione didn’t answer right away. “What’s going on?” he asked.  
Draco sighed. “You told him?” frowning once more.  
“Of course, I told him!” she said defensively. “He’s my best friend. Who else would know about crazy scar behaviour better than him? I was freaking out. I didn’t know about yours then! That was before the first meeting, remember?”  
They hadn’t let go of each other’s hand and Draco bend down and kissed her, “I do remember.”   
Hermione felt wonderfully proud of Draco’s public display of affection. Especially since it was Harry who got to witness it first.   
Harry must’ve thought something similar she was sure, for he looked at them amiably. “Are you going to tell me about whatever is going on here?” eyeing them expectantly.  
Draco and Hermione exchanged another look and Hermione nodded at him reassuringly. It’s okay it seemed to say.  
Hermione pulled her cardigan sleeve up and Draco exposed his mark as well.   
“For fucks sake!” Harry gasped. “What the hell happened to you guys? How’d you do that? I mean why? What is this?” Harry stepped closer and reached to touch Hermione’s opaque glittery scar. She shied away out of fear of what it might do if someone else touched it. Harry looked at her suspiciously.   
“I’m sorry” she apologized. “I’ve got to brace myself. And him…”   
“Why? Does it hurt?”  
“No. No, it doesn’t hurt. It’s quite complicated… we’re … sort of … connected. In a way.”  
“It’s like an extreme electrical shock when we touch each other.” Draco explained. “In a good way. A really good way.” He smirked ambiguously. “We even feel it when we’re apart. Touch it and the other feels it.”   
“What?”  
“I’ve got to do some more research on it…” Hermione didn’t want to share all the intimate details about being able to hear Draco and him hearing her. “I’ve got to go to the library. I know it’s ancient magic.”   
“Hm.” Harry frowned this time. “That’s a very rare piece of magic then. Tell me what you find, will ya?”  
“Of course!”  
“As far as the other thing goes…“ Harry started, “Ginny’s at Narcissa’s charity dinner this evening.” Harry turned to look at Draco, who’s expression soured slightly. “She was going to cancel but went anyway to hopefully catch you to give her an update on the project.”  
“I guess, she’ll be sorry she went.” Draco snorted. “I hate all those bloody society events, the pretentious bullshit. Looks like the golden boy is back in the doghouse with mummy and daddy. Not to mention darling Astoria.” He scoffed. “If you need to know, Potter, I’ve started the divorce proceedings a while back.”   
Hermione’s heart skipped a beat but tried desperately to remain calm and not let him know just yet how elated she really was about this news.   
“Hm. Alright.” Harry replied. “Who’s your lawyer?”  
“Why? You need one?”  
“No, Malfoy! Tosser! I’m trying to be nice here.”  
Hermione felt the tension rising just a tad. “Now now, boys. Anyone want a cup of tea?” She let go of Draco’s hand and crossed over to her small kitchenette, tucked away just around the corner from her front door.   
Both Harry and Draco didn’t reply for a good second and a half, actively playing the childish staring game.   
“No, thank you Mione. I’ll be off.” Harry followed her around the corner to give her a warm hug good-bye. “I know I said he’s changed.” He said in a low voice, standing really close to her. “And he sure has, but if he gives you any trouble or if you need anything – anything Hermione – just call me, okay?” He cupped her face and kissed her on the forehead. “Come by soon?”  
“I will.” She said. “And, yes, I will.”  
“You look happy.” Harry said quietly.  
“I think I might be.” She couldn’t believe it herself, but she thought she really was. Hermione smiled and took his elbow to escort him when Harry turned back to the fireplace.   
“See you, Malfoy.”  
“I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other now, Potter.” Draco grinned mischievously. “You best cheer Ginny up properly tonight after such a dreadful evening at the Manor. If you know what I mean…”  
“I’ve got just the thing in mind.” Harry grinned back, took the pinch of floo powder and was gone within the second.


	8. Chapter 8

8  
Draco woke up early. The clock by Hermione’s bed showed 5:14. He hadn’t slept this sound in a very long time. He turned carefully as not to wake her but couldn’t resist kissing her hair. She smelled heavenly. Her head rested on her hand, exposing her scar. It shimmered even in the pre-dawn darkness of the room. He gently touched his own mark and she sighed sleepily, stirring and letting out a soft moan of pleasure. Draco smiled and cautiously tucked the duvet up a bit more, so she wouldn’t be cold. He slid out of bed, traipsed into the bathroom, relieved himself and walked over to the double French doors, opening them. The cold hit him hard, but he inhaled the fresh morning air deeply, closed the doors again and quietly dressed.   
“I’ll be back later, Love” he whispered and kissed her soft pink lips. Once, twice… her lips now slowly awakening to his dangerous game. But before her hand could reach his face to pull him in, he retreated silently and stood waiting for her to fall back to sleep. Christ, he loved watching her. It didn’t take long, and he soon heard the slow, deep, relaxed breathing of sleep.   
In the living room he wrote a short message and charmed the note to float by the bed for her to find it as soon as she woke. Another note with sweet nothings floated into the bathroom to wait for her by the mirror. A third note by the kettle.   
He then disapparated to his dining room in his much too large home on Malfoy Estate.  
His house elf appeared immediately “Good morning, Sir.”  
“Good morning, Sondey”   
“Can I get you some breakfast already, Sir?”  
“That’d be quite lovely. A double shot of Espresso, please. Couple of slices of bacon, two eggs, over easy. Nothing more.”  
“Very well, Sir.” Sondey disappeared and returned only a moment later. “You’ve been away a while, Sir.”  
“I have. What’s been going on here, anything exciting happen?” Draco was curious what was being said in his house and Sondey, he trusted entirely.   
“Oh, sir. Poor Nimpey. Her ladyship has kicked her badly last night.”  
“What? Again?”  
“Nimpey retrieved the wrong shawl for her ladyships evening gown and got a bad beating for that and then she was shaking so terribly that she spilled a bit of her ladyships Gin onto the carpet in the bedroom and her ladyship kicked her out of the room and down the stairs. Poor Nimpey cried and cried.”  
“I’m very sorry Sondey. How is Nimpey this morning?”  
“Quite fine, Sir.”  
“Sondey…”  
“Sir, a bit sad actually.”  
“Ah. Well, do tell her, I hope she feels better. Things will change soon. Her Ladyship is still asleep I hope?”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
Draco downed the Espresso. “Can you get me a strong cup of tea, please, Sondey?”  
“At once, Sir.”   
Draco sat down and had barely lifted his fork when Sondey appeared again with a large steaming cup. “Light on the cream, Sir, as you like it.”  
Draco smiled. “Indeed. Thank you.”  
It nearly scared him to death when Lucius walked in, bright eyed and bushy tailed.   
“The prodigal son has returned.” Lucius mocked.  
“You’re funny. What are you doing here so early? It’s barely 5:30,” Draco scoffed.  
“I’ve heard you come home and wanted to check on you. Make sure your mother hadn’t beaten me to it and beheaded you first.”  
“Ah. Here’s the lecture then. I’m not interested. So please don’t waste your breath on my behalf.”  
“I know how you feel Draco. Your mother’s just worried. She’s been trying to reach you for days.”  
“I’ve been busy.”  
“With whom?”  
Draco hated how his father always seemed to be able to read his thoughts. He picked up his mug, looked away, and stared out at the early morning dew still lingering on the vast expanse of the flawless, green lawn and scattered ancient trees.   
“I’m going to finalize everything today.” Draco said quietly after a while. “I’m meeting Padma at 9:00.”  
Lucius had taken a seat and a hot cup of tea had been placed in front of him as well.   
“It’s Saturday.”  
“I’m quite aware of this. It’s urgent.”  
“This is going to be a mess, you know?”  
“Yes, I know.”  
“Are you going to tell me about what’s been keeping you busy these past few days?”  
“Not here.”  
“Fair enough. But be aware of your mother. If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here as fast as I could! She’s furious about last night. You know she hates having to come up with stories why you’re not attending her functions. Astoria was in a particularly sour mood last night as well…”  
Draco rolled his eyes, rubbed his hands over his face and blew out a heavy sigh.   
“Perhaps Mother would be better served with telling everyone the truth. It’ll only come back to bite her in the arse. Bloody hell. Well I’ll best be off then… meet me at the office at 7:30?”  
“7:30”

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Draco silently crept up to his dressing room, grabbing a small travel bag off the top shelve. He spoke the quiet incantation of the Undetectable Extension Charm Capacious Extremis and thus made most of his clothes and his most valued belongings fit. Within minutes he was done and disapparated to his office.   
Once there he retrieved his things and put them away neatly with a wave of his wand. He showered, changed into a fresh set of clothes and summoning Sondey, gave the used ones to him to be laundered.   
Lucius was punctual as usual. Draco sat at his desk and without prompt handed his father Hermione’s original parchment, requesting a meeting.   
“Hermione Granger,” was all he said for a little while. Draco didn’t offer any information but busied himself with paperwork he needed for the meeting with Padma.   
“Are you going to take on this project?” Lucius obviously losing patience with his son.   
“I have.”   
“Have you, indeed.”  
“Yes, Father. It’s nice to give back, you know?”  
“Is it, now?”  
“Stop this.”  
“And how is Ms. Granger? I assume she’s your contact at Hogwarts.” Said Lucius arching an eyebrow.  
“Hermione is well. Thank you.” Bloody hell! Draco cursed himself. He’d just confirmed all of Lucius’ unspoken suspicions.   
Lucius smiled smugly, “Hermione, it is now. Hm. No more Granger. Interesting.”   
“It’s rude to call people by their last names, Father.”   
“Well… are you going to tell me what is actually going on here, or would you like me to continue interrogating you?! Do I seriously have to worm this out of you? At the rate you’re going, Astoria will be here soon. She only sleeps until noon these days.” Lucius sneered.  
Draco sighed and put his head in his hand.   
“I just need to get this divorce over with. I … I just fell head over heels for her. She’s so bloody perfect at everything she does, she makes me look like a moron, but acts as if I’m the best thing since sliced bread.” It all just came spilling out of him and Lucius reclined and listened. “She’s kind and funny and witty and beautiful. She’s so beautiful. Her fucking freckles are killing me.” He dropped his head onto his desk, banging his head on the desks’ surface then breathing deeply; he spoke softly as he lifted his head. “Her light shines so bright. She should be wearing a bloody halo and I feel inferior to her and want nothing more than to please her. I want to get on my knees and …” Draco broke off.  
“And all this after, what? Two weeks?”  
“I realize this, Father!!” Draco’s head snapped up.   
“Well, has anyone found out about it yet?”  
“Potter.”  
“Of course.”  
“I’m not worried about him. I am however worried about ending this bloody arranged marriage of mine and what consequences the divorce will have on all of us.”  
“Does Ms. Granger know about your situation?”  
“She knows some. We really haven’t had a chance to get into the nasty details yet.”  
“Too busy shagging, were you?” Lucius concluded.  
“No. And yes. There’s another thing complicating the matter…”  
“Oh?”  
Draco rolled up his sleeve.   
“Merlin’s Beard. Will you look at that!” Lucius shot out of his seat and came closer to inspect his sons’ mark. He reached to touch it, but Draco pulled his arm back and covered it with his sleeve again. “That’s an odd way of healing. I was sure it would be nearly gone by now.” Lucius concluded, rolled up his own sleeve and showed him. “Barely visible anymore."  
"It was nearly gone. Now it's changed. Happened the Wednesday of the first meeting. Remember her scar from when Aunt Bella tortured her?”  
“How could I forget?”  
“Hers changed too. Into the same thing.” Draco paused. “And it’s sort of connecting us.”  
“Connecting you?”  
“She can feel it when I touch my arm, and I can feel it when she touches hers. We’ve even heard each other.”  
“What do you mean ‘heard each other’? That’s impossible!”  
“I was here, and she was at Hogwarts and I swear, Father, it was as if she was standing right here next to me.”   
“What kind of magic is this?”  
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Definitely old magic.”   
“I’ll make some inquiries. I have to go into the Ministry on Monday anyway. There’s the old chap working in the Department of Magical History. You know… what’s his name again?”  
“You mean Mr. Bragnam? He probably only works a few hours a week these days, he’s that old!”  
“Well, I’ll see if I can track him down. He used to be an expert on ancient runes and artefacts. In his day he was the Head Curator for the Department of Magical Artefacts. He’s bound to know more about odd scars and their connection to another.”  
“That would really help me out, Father. Thank you.”  
“You’ve got enough on your plate with … all that,” Lucius waved a long-fingered pale hand over the disarray of paperwork covering Draco’s desk.   
“And the move. That’s also happening tomorrow.”  
“Astoria will be livid.”  
“Can you ask Mother to organize an impromptu luncheon for tomorrow? Including some of Astoria’s friends? Preferably at the club downtown to keep the witch away for a few hours at least. That should give us enough time to get his things out without her kicking and screaming, throwing her Gin glasses after us.”  
“Good idea. You owe your Mother when all this is over!”  
“I know. I will make it up to her.”  
“Alright. Stop by when you’ve finished your meeting with Padma.”  
Draco said his good-byes to his father and went back to his paperwork.

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione woke from the rain beating on her windows. She rolled over sleepily; he was gone. Disappointment hit her like an icy slap in the face. She thought he had kissed her but that must’ve been a dream. She sighed and opening her eyes reluctantly she noticed something floating by the bed and stretched to reach it. At her touch, the note spoke in his voice: ‘Good morning Gorgeous. Did you sleep well? I went to take care of some things. I’ll be back later.’ He blew her a kiss at the end. She could hear the happiness in his words and it instantly made her feel better. She smiled a content smile and slowly rose. She traipsed into the bathroom where she nearly bumped into the note floating at eye-level by the sink. ‘I promise I’ll start sitting down to pee from now on!’ he laughed, and it made her heart skip a beat. She’d quite loved their little exchange last night before they’d gone in to meet Harry.   
She tousled her hair with both hands, brushed her teeth and grabbed her cardigan on her way to make tea.   
In the kitchen she found the last note ‘Enjoy your tea, Love. Have a good day. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, Steaks bloody as hell tonight?’. The smile didn’t leave her face. Hermione was happy.   
She showered, dressed and made her way to the library.   
Now in her early 50s, Madam Pince was still librarian at Hogwarts. During their years as students, Hermione remembered that the beautifully aged witch had not been well liked at all, being extremely strict, overly protective of the books, and sometimes outright unhelpful in finding them for the students. Hermione assumed it was because she was afraid the students were going to ruin her precious volumes. Yet her knowledge of the books was astounding, and Hermione was sure to find some answers here. She got along well with Madam Pince now though and walked into the library with a happy “Good morning, Irma!”.   
“Hermione! Hello!” She called from in between some shelves towards the wall of window. Madam Pince peeked out her pointy nose and waved her over. “Good morning, Dear,” she smiled, but then her face soured and gestured to a book she was holding “Look at this, Hermione! Someone tore this page! I can’t believe how reckless these children are nowadays.” Frowning, she pulled out her wand and cast the Mending Charm Reparo. The page instantly sealed itself back together, not leaving a trace of the former abuse.  
“Yes, I am afraid, some are indeed a wee bit reckless.” Hermione agreed. “How are you today, though? Is your back still bothering you?”  
“Merlin, I can hardly remember a day, when it didn’t hurt…” She made a face, but then smiled bravely. “What are you doing here on a Saturday morning? This isn’t your usual time.”  
“I need to do some research. I was actually hoping you could help me. Point me in the right direction, so to speak.”  
“Certainly! What are you looking for, Dear?”  
“Well, I’m looking for scar behaviour; in particular, healing and changing of scars. And if there can be a connection to another person with a similar scar.”   
Madam Pince looked at her strangely from the side, thought about the request and silently walked over to some ancient textbooks first. She pulled out a few well-worn publications from here, then over to the newer titles, grabbed some of those and handed Hermione a neat pile.   
“Thank you, Irma!”  
“Yes, yes, of course,” she chimed and left Hermione to sort through those works.  
Hermione sat down and started by sorting the books into genre. Medical and Ritualistic Magic.   
She went for the rational approach first, opening one of the medical books. Healing times in the muggle world depended on the skin condition and tissue, as well as the care one put into it after its initial four stages of healing.   
Healing in the Magical World worked differently. One could simply pull out their wand and depending on the severity of the wound mouth a basic Episkey spell or the more advanced and time consuming Vulnera Sanentur. Healing of the scar tissue worked in much the same way, only comparatively quicker. Of course, there were potions and magical salves one could apply to make these ugly reminders of mishaps, or in her case torture, less visible or even disappear entirely. Again, depending on its severity.  
There was no mention however of scars interacting with one another.   
Hermione then turned to a book on ancient rituals. One described that people could be bound together via a magical seal, like in a handfasting ceremony. During the act, blood was drawn by cutting across the wrists, then placing the wrists on top of the other so the bloods could mingle. A charmed ribbon or cord was then used to physically bind them together while a long incantation was spoken, like a prayer in church, Hermione imagined. When the ceremony was over, the wounds were healed quickly with a swift motion of the Master of Ceremonies wand. These scars would stay, to remind the wearer of their vow. And sometimes, these scars would shimmer.   
Hermione’s heart started hammering. There it was! The first mention of a shimmering scar she had found. Elated she continued her search well into the afternoon but couldn’t find any other mention. Still, she was happy to have found anything at all, placed the books back into their assigned slots, except for Ancient Magical Rituals and Ceremonies, which she took along to show to Draco. She then bid Madam Pince good-bye. “Have a lovely weekend, Irma!” she called into the seemingly empty space.   
“You, too, Hermione,” she heard the reply from the other side of the library, where the fireplace was and where Madame Pince liked to sit by the fire and read. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Draco apparated into the Manors vast sitting room to find his mother nursing a steaming cup of tea from a delicate cup of bone china, listening intently to an excited conversation Lucius was having with Scorpius.   
“… and if you can bring the McLaggens on board, that would be fantastic!!” Lucius raved.   
“I’m nearly there, Grandfather. I think I’ve made them an offer they can’t possibly refuse.” Scorpius said proudly.  
“And what is it exactly you’re doing for them?” Draco asked as he walked in.   
“Double their investment and get us a nice bonus on top!” Scorpius beamed.   
“That’s wonderful, mate!” Draco stretched out his arm, made a fist and Scorpius bumped it in return, both of them flaring out at the end, making a swoosh sound. Scorpius had picked that up from one of his closest friends, Potters second son, Albus. He’d then taught Draco and it had become their thing. Very un-pure-bloodish, much to Astoria’s annoyance.  
“How did your meeting go?” Narcissa asked, clearly nervous about his answer.   
“I couldn’t have found a better solicitor, Mother!” Draco joined his mother on the large hand-tailored charcoal-coloured sofa. With its deep diamond tufts, high rolled arms and back, and loose welted seat cushions this modern take on the classic Chesterfield sofa fit perfectly into Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Scorpius sat on its twin opposite them. “Padma was able to put all my requests in and found some loopholes, so it may not be as horrible as we’d feared.”  
“Let’s not hold our breathes just yet, shall we.” Lucius cautioned. “What are your plans on compensating her? Has Padma made any reasonable suggestions?”  
“I will find Astoria a suitable flat downtown. That way, she’s off the Estate. With Scorpius being nearly 20, there’s no custody issues anymore, so she can’t touch me there. There will be either a lump sum pay-off, or I’ll have to agree to pay her an allowance. I think I will just pay the lump sum and start over. She’ll gut me like a turkey.”  
“Well, thankfully, she can’t touch your business. Thank the Lord, we updated the pre-nup when Malfoy Tech started growing. I’m sure she feels rather stupid now, not believing in you then.” Lucius said.   
“Yeah… I’m glad we didn’t get along well enough for me to share any of the business aspects with her.” Draco’s mind drifted to Hermione and how he’d worked so well with her. Being each other’s sounding board, bouncing ideas back and forth, actually making progress while enjoying each other’s company. He really missed her already. It was nearly four in the afternoon.   
He put his head back, tuned out whatever Narcissa was saying to Lucius and consciously let his fingertips slide over his shirtsleeve covered mark. He felt the tingling rise, his body stirring and starting to react; not obvious, this was most certainly not the place for a rock-solid hard-on. But on the inside, a growing anticipation swelled in his heart. And from what he’d learned recently, this way he might let Hermione know, he was on the way…   
“Well… I best be going!” Draco blurted out into the middle of his family’s casual conversation, put his hands on his knees and pushed up to stand.   
Narcissa startled, looked at him crookedly. “Where are you off to so suddenly, then?”  
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Draco teased and kissed her on the cheek. He turned and addressed Scorpius this time. “Have you got everything sorted out for tomorrow?”  
“Yeah, I’m nearly done. One or two more things I’m looking for. I’ll be ready. 11 o’clock?”  
“Sounds good. Oh, by the way, Mother,” turning back to Narcissa. “Were you able to arrange that luncheon tomorrow?”   
“Not much I could do on such short notice, but yes, I’ll keep her busy for an hour or two…” rolling her eyes and sighing heavily. “You owe me, Draco!”  
“I do, Mother. I know I do. I am forever grateful.” He mockingly bowed but gave her a long hug when she rose to kiss him good-bye.   
He nodded to his father and with a pop disapparated into Hermione’s flat at Hogwarts. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione gasped loudly in surprise, just as she was opening the door to her flat. Her scar tingled and shot straight to the sensitive spot between her legs. She swooned for a second, before catching her breath and setting down her books from the library, that she had taken with her. Lord, she missed him! It was four o’clock now, when would he be back? She contemplated teaching him about Muggle smartphones, so she could just call him. Hear his voice, his breathing. Pushing that thought away, afraid of getting too caught up too quickly, she hit the button of the kettle and walked into her bedroom to put on her thick socks.   
As the pop of apparition sounded, she spun around and flew into the living room and straight into his arms, not being able to restrain herself any longer. Draco caught her mid-air and kissed her hungrily, his hands cupping her face, then both just breathing the other in, with eyes closed, foreheads touching. “I’ve missed you so,” Hermione whispered.   
“And Merlin be my witness, I’ve missed you! I couldn’t have waited another minute!” Their lips met again, soft this time, playing, teasing, building that great energy field.   
“I’ve felt you earlier,” she confessed.   
“I was trying to tell you that I was coming home,” he gushed.   
His words hit her soft spot and she pressed herself even farther into him. He undid his tie, then slid her cardigan off her shoulders. She worked the buttons of his shirt, but he was faster, drawing his wand and his shirt flew open. Hermione giggled and turned on her heel, sped into the bedroom and hit her bed with a practiced leap. Draco was right behind her not a second later, making them both bounce. Their wild entanglement of limbs and clothes and kisses in between grew into a frenzy of needing to unite NOW.   
When he entered her, she let out a loud “YES! Oh Lord, again, Draco, again! Again!”. That got him riled up even more, him on his knees, her on her back with her boobs exposed, he frantically rode her, harder and harder. It became primal and Hermione loved every second of this brutish side of him, how he held her hips in place so he could pound her on and on, his face a mask of contorted rage. He groaned and hitting her on that sensitive spot over and over again, she felt that tingling sensation creeping up on her “Draco, yes! Yes! Don’t stop! YEEEESSS!!”. She broke apart and he followed her with a final thrust, sweat dripping off his nose and onto her chest when he leaned forward to catch his breath. Lord how she loved him dripping on her. How she loved him… This realization hit her so unexpectedly, that she hardly noticed him pulling out and performing a quick cleansing spell.   
“Bloody hell, Hermione… I can’t even… wow. Just wow.”  
She still tried to bring her breathing under control but stammered “yeah… This was necessary. Primal.”  
“Damn that was odd.” His breathing slowed. “Don’t get me wrong. It was fucking amazing. I just had no control over myself. It became animalistic. I don’t know what had gotten into me…”   
“I think it just means we’ve got to do it more often,” she offered, giggling like a girl.   
“Or do it, until whatever this is wears off…” he rolled onto his back and drew the duvet over them.   
Her head on his shoulder where it belonged, he thought. This was it.   
“There’s this old Muggle song,” Hermione breathed quietly, “the lyrics don’t really fit, but it says, ‘I just died in your arms tonight’. That’s kind of how I feel right now. Like I could die right now, here with you and be completely content. I’m good.”  
Draco kissed her hair. “Let’s not die just yet. Let’s do this a few more times please,” he smiled and drew her closer.   
Hermione turned her chin up to kiss him. They lay entangled in a warm embrace for a while when Draco spoke. “This is not human, though.” There was some concern in his voice that made Hermione clairaudient. “The sex I mean. This is pure magic. In a good way of course, but not normal. Not normal shagging. It’s different.”   
“I went to the library earlier.” She sat up and accio’ed the book she had brought back. “I’ve found this…” She opened the book to the appropriate page speaking of the shimmering scars after binding ceremonies.   
Draco scooted up, pulled her back towards him, covered them again and together they read. “Yes, but we didn’t have a binding ceremony.”  
“It’s the only reference I’ve found so far. I did however hear of a sex witch up north.” She trailed off.   
“A sex witch? What would she know?”  
“Well, apparently she’s also a seer. And she performs ancient binding rituals.”  
“How did you hear about her?”  
“Cho.”  
“Really? I didn’t take her for knowing about these things…”  
“You don’t know her,” Hermione said with a sly smile. “She’s something else. A true well of off the wall weird information. The odd things she knows are quite astounding, really.”  
“Apparently.”  
“The witches name is Mauve Paellicio. I think it may be a name she took on. Paellicio is Latin.”   
“Obviously,” Draco observed.  
“It means to seduce, attract or charm.” Hermione concluded.   
“Hm. Do you think she may know about this connection of ours?”  
“I think she might. Do you want to go see her?”  
“Not now, surely.”  
“No! Not now, silly. Maybe tomorrow late afternoon?”  
“I’m moving Scorpius into his new place tomorrow. But it shouldn’t take long.”  
“Scorpius… he was a lovely student. He was one of my favourites.”  
Draco kissed her forehead. “He is absolutely brilliant. My best accomplishment in life.”  
Hermione smiled and kissed him.   
“So, you’ve spoken to Cho about us?” Draco asked.   
“A wee bit.”  
“Right… how long before we’re on the front page of the Daily Prophet then? Just so I can prepare for Astoria’s wrath.”  
“It’s not like that. She’s not like that. I completely trust her. I also haven’t gone into depth about us. I’ve shown her the scar and that you’re messing with my head.” She smirked.   
“Messing with your head?” He laughed ruffling her hair.   
“Hey! Stop that!” She withdrew from him trying to get away. But he held her tight and kissed her, drowning out her protests.   
They laughed and tumbled in bed for a while, then eventually decided it was time for dinner.   
Hermione donned some jeans and a tight jumper, showing off her beautiful curves and Draco couldn’t help himself but to slap her bum and let his hands slide up her front and cupping her breast, squeezing gently, while kissing her neck and her hair tickling his nose. “Merlin, you’re driving me crazy Granger,” he groaned. She wiggled out of his hold turned around and put her arms around his neck “You’re doing the same to me Malfoy,” and kissed him hungrily.   
“We’ve got to stop this though!” she stepped back resolutely. “Must. Make. Dinner.”  
“Make dinner?”  
“Oh, please forgive me, noble Mr. Malfoy. I forgot that you most likely don’t know how to actually cook without using magic.”  
“What?” he said mockingly. Then purposely haughtily he added, “Of course I don’t. Who do you think I am?!”  
Hermione laughed and pulled him out onto her patio. “This is a gas grill.” She gestured towards a large black machine looking thing by one of the patio walls. Then she gestured back to Draco, “Grill, this is Draco, he will be your master tonight.”  
“WHAT?” Draco said again.   
“It’s easy. I’ll show you. Here, you turn this gas tap, to let the gas flow.”  
“Gas?”  
“Yea, Draco. Gas.” He followed her instructions and turned the knob. “Well done, Love.” She smiled and he frowned.   
“Now. Open the large lid and turn this button here to three. See how it says ‘off – 1 – 2 – 3’? Turn it to 3.”  
He did and a hiss sounded out.  
“Now push the start button.” He did and the telltale clicking sparked and ignited blue flames instantly, causing Draco to jump back. “Watch out Hermione!” he called frantically.   
She doubled over laughing. “It’s quite alright. It’s supposed to do that. Now close the lid and let it heat up for a few minutes, we need it nice and hot.”   
He followed her back inside and into the kitchenette, where she summoned a house-elf to bring her a thick cut T-Bone steak, green asparagus and strawberries. Not a minute had passed when the house-elf returned with her order and she began rummaging in one of her drawers and produced herbs and spices. Draco silently watched her season the steak and put it on a large plate to rest. She washed her hands then placed the asparagus in a thin rectangular aluminium vessel, drizzled it with Olive Oil and coarse sea salt. She passed him the plate, took the foil pan and went back outside.   
Draco was fascinated with this entire operation and happily did as Hermione told. She showed him where to place the meat, when to turn it, what to look for in terms of doneness. She had placed the vegetables off to the side and rolled it in its pan occasionally. Merlin, this smelled heavenly! He had never expected cooking to be so fun and rewarding as he tore into the larger piece of the T-Bone Steak, having previously cut off the smaller part for Hermione. It was juicy and tender, melting in his mouth and perfectly seasoned. The asparagus was cooked to perfection with a slight crunch and soft tips so very flavourful. Hermione had poured two pints of Guinness, which paired exceptionally well with the food. Dinner was fantastic and made even better, Draco was sure, because he had made it himself. Well sort of. With some help.   
Hermione then brought out the strawberries and cream and they feasted on that, too.   
“This was just perfect!” Draco beamed when they were done, had taken care of the kitchen, dishes and the grill with a quick Scourgify cleaning spell.   
They sat on her couch, her leaning into him. “This is perfect,” Hermione whispered.   
“Yes, it is.” Draco agreed and kissed her. He pulled the blanket up higher and held her tight.


	9. Chapter 9

9  
A harsh wind blew on Sunday morning and they woke to the sound of rustling leaves and eerie howls coming up from the Forbidden Forest. Great stormy clouds rushed across the sky promising more rain later.   
Draco didn’t make any attempts to get out of bed yet, so Hermione slipped into a thick over-sized Hogwarts Hoody and shuffled into the kitchen, bringing back two steaming cups of tea.   
“Just what I needed,” Draco mused, sipping carefully on the hot beverage. “Light on the cream. Brilliant!”  
They watched the clouds for a few minutes then Hermione set her mug down on her bedside table and pretended she was getting too warm, took off the hoodie and slid back under the duvet, crept close to Draco and let her hands wander. Down his body, drawing tiny swirls in the few blond hairs covering his chest and abs, getting ever closer to her target. When she was almost there, she ducked under the covers and scooted down in between his legs, licking her lips before raising him up with her hand and taking him into her warm mouth. Her swirls had started to wake him, but he was still a bit soft, which changed almost instantly when she began licking and humming and sucking and working his shaft. He groaned and sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, raising his feet up on his heels. He tossed the duvet back and held her head in his hands, guiding her, watching. “Bloody hell,” he hissed one moment and “Fuck” the next, with lusty moans in between. Hermione was having so much fun, pleasuring him this way, that she swore to herself to make this a regular thing. A treat of sorts. Just for him. He deserved it she felt. He gathered her hair into a ponytail and bobbed her head up and down, watching her, her tongue playing a very very dangerous game and he soon reached the point of no return, groaning and muttering. She reached for his jewels with the other hand and softly massaged his perineum, which surprised him, and he gasped not being able to delay his orgasm any longer. Draco threw his head back as the tingling rush spread through his body, closed his eyes and let out a deep guttural grunt. Wow, how she loved that! His breathing relaxed a bit after a moment and Hermione found her place in his arms again, not before taking some long drinks of her warm tea.   
They cuddled and planned their day for a little while longer, then showered together, going about their bathroom routines side by side.   
“I’ll see if I can’t catch Harry and Ginny in a bit,” Hermione said.   
“Good idea. He’ll be relieved to see you and Ginny will love all the juicy details, I bet…” he rolled his eyes grinning.   
“Well… I personally can’t wait to hear what she’s got to say about Friday nights’ charity event.”  
He harrumphed. “Boring as ever, I’m sure. Although, I did hear that Astoria was in a bit of a state, so it may have been entertaining after all.”  
“I’ll tell you all about it! Do we… uhm…?” She hesitated, not wanting to push him into something he may not want to do.  
“Yes?”  
“Did you still want to go see that sex witch this afternoon?”  
“Absolutely! Have you made arrangements yet?”  
“No, I’ll send her an owl to see if she’s even available. When are you going to be back?”  
“Shouldn’t take too long. Say two o’clock? Half past two maybe?”  
“Okay.” She went on her tip toes to kiss him. “I’ll make sure to be back by then.”  
Hermione went about writing a neat note to the witch, while Draco buttered two slices of toast, handing her one along with a double shot of Espresso, which he had made from her muggle machine like she’d shown him, one for himself and one for her.   
Her short-eared owl took the note willingly and set off to find Ms. Paellicio at once.   
“I’ll see you in a bit then, Love,” Draco said when her kissed her good-bye and stepped into her fireplace to floo himself to Scorpius’ quarters at his house on Malfoy Estate.   
Hermione blew him a kiss “I can’t wait!” she said lovingly. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Draco landed in his son’s fireplace and still felt Hermione’s touch on his lips but was immediately hit with a strong adrenaline rush when he saw Astoria reprimanding Scorpius loudly. His son tried desperately to retain his composure but was dangerously close to losing it Draco noticed.   
“What’s the problem, Astoria?” Draco demanded.   
She spun around acting as if she hadn’t heard his arrival. “What’s the problem? He’s moving out! That’s the problem! And he’s taking all my things with him!”  
“I am NOT taking all your things with me.” Scorpius said slowly, pronouncing every word individually.  
“And where are you coming from anyway?” Astoria interrupting Scorpius and glaring wild-eyed at Draco.  
“That is hardly any of your business anymore, is it?!” Draco spat.  
“You son of a bitch!” she snarled. “We are still married you hateful bastard!” she screamed now and came lunging at him, her fists clenched and ready to hit him square in the face, but Draco was quicker, drew his wand and said quietly “Do it. I dare you. Do. It. I can’t wait to add this to the list!”  
Draco could practically see the hate flare in her eyes to unprecedented heights, yet she withdrew, but only so much and growled threateningly “I will destroy you, Draco Malfoy. I promise you that.”  
“Get. Out.” Draco said calmly, fully knowing his composure would enrage her even more.  
She stalked out of the room, then suddenly turned back her wand drawn, pointed and non-verbally caused Scorpius’ large trunk to explode where it stood open waiting to be packed.  
“Enjoy your new home!” she yelled.  
Scorpius jumped to the side his face contorted first in shock then rage, ready to pounce back, but Draco caught him by the elbow at the last second, performing a quick Protego totalum shield charm, as well as the protective enchantment Selvio Hexia to deflect possible hexes from Astoria around Scorpius’ rooms. He hoped Narcissa would arrive soon to take Astoria away, before she destroyed the whole house. He added a silencing shield, so Astoria wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.  
“She is bang out of order!” Scorpius yelled.  
“Yes. Yes, she is…” Draco said. We are still married you hateful bastard! – Not for much longer Draco thought gratefully. Turning to Scorpius he said “Come on. Let’s get a move on. Before this gets out of hand here…”  
They worked in silence for a while, first having Sondey retrieve a new trunk from a storage room downstairs, equipping it with an undetectable enlargement charm, then shrinking furniture and fitting everything in. They hoisted the trunk over to the fireplace and went to work on Scorpius’ wardrobe. Last things were books and sentimental memorabilia that were important to Scorpius.   
It took them less than half an hour in which Narcissa had come to take Astoria away to lunch and shop with her friends. Astoria did manage to destroy a few other pieces of furniture along the way and Draco took some time to walk around his house to put everything back in order. He also made sure to deny passage from his homes’ fireplaces to Hermione’s flat and office. He could floo to her place from his office.   
They took two trips floo’ing Scorpius’ things to his 1-bedroom apartment in a new state of the art residents’ facility. Tranquil landscaped gardens surrounded the new construction, which lay in the center of Prince of Wales Drive. Draco had gotten a fantastic price for this flat, knowing the architect from his time at Hogwarts, Seamus Finnigan. The high rise featured stunning views of Battersea Park from the bedroom and living room, 24-hour concierge, an 8th floor roof terrace, steam room and 17m pool. The apartment itself was luxuriously made up in a contemporary palette of colours and finishes, featuring fluted glass bath screens, bespoke vanity units and feature cabinets to the kitchen.   
Scorpius’ unit, being one of three Wizarding Units, was larger than the Muggle ones, plus they lay on the top floor. The living room for example was quite a bit bigger to accommodate the tall fireplace necessary for connection to the Floo Network.  
Draco and Scorpius moved furniture from here to there, arranging and rearranging using their wands. Two hours later his sons’ new home was a true wizards’ bachelor pad, fit for a Malfoy. Scorpius’ bedroom was kept in a dark emerald green with silver accents. Very masculine and sleek the flat was uncluttered, yet homey. Draco felt good about this place and thus granting his son a chance to become a responsible adult, away from the drama of Malfoy Estate, that would surely continue in the months to follow.   
While they worked Scorpius had asked about where Draco had been and Draco, keeping true to his word had told him the truth, that he’d met someone from his time at Hogwarts and it seemed promising.   
“Who is it?” Scorpius asked.   
“Well…” Draco contemplated beating around the bush for a bit, but then thought better of it. “She’s a former teacher of yours, actually.”  
“Not Madame Pince!” Scorpius exclaimed.  
“Absolutely not!” Draco laughed. “It’s Hermione Granger.”  
“Really?” asked Scorpius sounding impressed. “She’s hot. Good for you Dad!”  
Draco smirked, remembering Hermione’s pink lips and her freckles, the light in her eyes and her gorgeous smile. “She is… Merlin, she sure is…”   
“Have you…? Uhm… you know? Have you… shagged her yet?”  
“Bloody hell, have I…” Draco grinned from ear to ear. Involuntarily he reached for his arm and touched it, launching that tingling and knowing he’d connect to her. “It’s unbelievable, really. Head over heels, full force. She’s amazing. We’ll all have dinner, soon, okay?”  
“I’d like that. She liked me then.”  
“She’ll like you now.”  
“Thanks Dad. For everything.” Scorpius came over to hug his father and they embraced deeply for a long moment.   
“If you need anything, anytime, I’m always there. Your mother shouldn’t give you too much trouble anymore. If she does, let me know.” He messed up Scorpius’ blond hair, then went in for a bro-hug, another thing Scorpius had learned from Albus and taught his father.  
They said good-bye and Draco floo’ed to his office to grab some things.

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione had announced herself via a text message, before floo’ing to Harry and Ginny’s. The Potters lived in a small cottage in Oxfordshire, surrounded by a beautiful large country garden, lined with a picket fence. Ginny enjoyed gardening and it showed. She’d never fussed too much with it, though, using magic often, but still liked to keep up the appearance of having done it all by herself, solely for her Muggle neighbours benefit. Roses bloomed stunningly in shades of pink on trees lining the walkway up to the house, protruding into the wide, brick paved passage. There were yellow climbing roses on an arch, which granted access to a sweeping lawn of lush green colour, trimmed carefully. Two large pots overflowing with flourishing white impatients flanked the front door.  
Hermione loved their garden. And their home. She loved coming here and did so, much too seldomly.  
She stepped out of the Potters fireplace into their hearth room, the Potters having a separate sitting room for entertaining. This room was smaller, with bookshelves lining two walls and two overstuffed armchairs, separated by a round side table and a floor lamp right behind illuminating the reading area from above. A desk, adorned with an antique brass bankers’ lamp with green glass, sat in the corner by the bay window, which Harry had turned into a window seat. Plush cushions leaned invitingly against the windows, offering a lovely view of the garden.   
“Hello,” Hermione called excitedly.   
“She’s here Harry!” Ginny called from the adjacent kitchen. “Hermione!” she flew into her friend’s arms, kissed her cheeks and took her hand to pull Hermine with her into the kitchen.   
Harry appeared only a moment later. “It’s good to see you so happy, Hermione!” he beamed, embracing her warmly, then kissing her cheeks as well. It felt so good to be here.   
“Goodness it smells heavenly Ginny. I love your Pavlova! And strawberries!” Hermione gushed. “You’re spoiling me!”  
“Of course, we are!! We’re actually trying to convince you to come by more often!” Ginny said.  
“I’m so so sorry. I really do feel terrible. I always have so much on my plate… work. The students. So many books, so little time…” she made excuses.   
“How is our beautiful Lily? She isn’t giving you any trouble, is she?” Ginny asked.  
“Lily? Never! She’s doing so well. Turning heads left and right actually. The boys are crazy about her.” Harry and Ginny’s youngest daughter Lily was in her last year at Hogwarts and a student of Hermione’s.   
Harry snorted and Ginny blushed, “Goodness, I reckoned she’d be a heartbreaker… but I hear you’ve got something new to keep you busy as well.” Ginny grinned raising her eyebrows expectantly.  
“Well. Yes and no. Well… more yes than no…” the heat rose in Hermione’s cheeks and she flustered about and shot a quick look at Harry. She wanted to tell Ginny all about Draco. ALL of it. “I’ll keep the juicy details for later,” Hermione winked, and Ginny giggled.   
“I can’t wait,” she said, while Harry rolled his eyes.  
“I am definitely not even remotely interested in THAT conversation!” he said.   
They chatted while they set the table, then brewed coffee the muggle way and enjoyed a very delightful brunch with berries and cheeses and scones and home-made jams. Luna had brought by honey she harvested herself from the many beehives she kept. Luna’s honey was the best and rather famous throughout the British Wizarding World.   
“Gosh, how I’ve missed Luna’s honey. I have got to see her soon! I’m sure Draco would love it.” Hermione blurted out.   
“Oooh, are we honey-shopping already? It is that serious? So soon?” Ginny teased.   
Apparently, Harry took this as his cue to busy himself elsewhere, filled another large mug with coffee and cream, kissed Ginny lovingly, three, four, five times, rubbed Hermione’s cheek with his thumb, then left them alone.   
Hermione buried her face in her hands feeling giddy like a schoolgirl and came up for air sighing happily.   
“Oh, Ginny… I’ve never felt anything like this. I mean NEVER. He’s brilliant, witty and funny. He’s gorgeous. Christ, Ginny. He’s so bloody gorgeous!” she swooned, putting her hands together as if in prayer. “And he’s actually nice. And… “, she broke off, blushing deeply, then whispered, “the sex is… I don’t even have a proper word for it. Me. I have no words. I’m speechless. It’s… it’s out of this world.”  
Ginny had turned in her seat and now facing her she said, “I am so happy for you Hermione.” She took her friends hands and kissed them. “We’re talking Draco though, right?!” she teased.  
Hermione slapped Ginny’s arm, “Yes, we’re talking Draco!” She laughed. “He’s fantastic! I couldn’t believe it either at first.”   
“You’re right, though, of course. He really is rather good looking…” Ginny checking nervously to see that Harry wasn’t in earshot when she’d said it. “And he has been nothing but courteous and nice with us over the years. I’m just worried he’d hurt you.”  
“Harry’s already promised Draco to hunt him down should that be the case.” Hermione told her. “Of course, I am worried, too…” frustration mingled in her words. “I’m falling too fast! It’s like a drug. I can’t get enough, and neither can he. It’s like a pull you can’t resist. Like two magnets.” Hermione reached into her mass of curls and grabbed them, groaning. “It scares the living daylights out of me, yet I seem to have lost all control. It’s out of my hands, I feel. Maybe it’s the bloody scar that’s the source of all this… and if that is the case, are my feelings, his feelings not real? Is it just a jinx? A hoax?” Hermione’s eyes had become moist and she placed a hand over her mouth, despair getting the best of her.   
Ginny took her in her arms and Hermione finally let go of all those pent-up fears and sobbed for a little while. Ginny held her, kissed her hair like the good mother she was.   
“I don’t want heartache anymore.” Hermione went on stuttering. “Not after Ron and the divorce from Terry and that one guy Chris. You know that’s why I’ve been keeping it casual all these years. I can’t bear the pain. I simply refuse. But these stupid dark thoughts creep up on me ... what if he decides to stay with Astoria after all?” she wept. “What if I’m going all in and he backs out?”  
“I really don’t think you need to worry about that. They’ve been bad for a LONG time. This divorce has been coming for ages.”  
“Yes, but what if she threatens him? Maybe she’s got something on him to keep him tied to her. Oh my Lord, what if she purposely gets herself pregnant by him?”  
“Hermione! Please… cut it out! Do you really believe they’re still sleeping together?!”  
“How would I know? He has needs… so does she. They DO live together…”  
“If that’s what you call it…” Ginny made a face. “They own the house and she lives in it. I believe that’s the extent of that. It’s rumoured he ‘lives’,” here Ginny drew quotation marks in the air “in his office. I know some of the people that work for him. He’s always there. Always.”  
Ginny kissed her cheek again and drew Hermione’s chin up. “Your mind is creating scenarios that are not real. It’s in your head and you’ve got no facts. Talk to him about it. Soon!”  
“I know… I suppose I’ve been avoiding the issue. It just feels so good to just be with him. I don’t want to spoil it. I don’t want to be the party pooper. Plus, we really haven’t had much time to talk all of this through.” She shrugged.  
Trying to steer the subject away from pain, Ginny said “Tell me about the scar again.”  
Hermione showed her her arm. It was much warmer down here, so upon her arrival she’d shed her cardigan and scarf, leaving her clad in skinny blue jeans, a V-Neck T-Shirt and Vans. The scar glistened beautifully in the late May sunshine and Ginny went to touch it, but Hermione withdrew. “I don’t know what happens if someone else touches it.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Hermione snorted. “Don’t laugh now, please.” She sighed and went on. “It’s sort of a communication channel between us. I feel it when he touches his scar and vice versa. We’ve also heard each other saying the other’s name, when we… ” she looked away, blushing deeply. “… when we… you know, we’re in bed, but not with each other.”  
Ginny giggled “Oooh, I would LOVE that! I would touch mine all day long and drive Harry bonkers! That’s fantastic!”  
“Well, it is,” Hermione said. “But, so like I said, I don’t know what happens if someone else touches it. It’s also a MASSIVE turn on when the other caresses it. It’s nice and great and ticklish and arousing when we touch it ourselves, but when the other touches it, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s like an explosion and that pull! We have got to unite right then, in that moment. There’s a force behind it… that’s just unbelievable. Which is why we’re going to see that sex witch this afternoon.”  
“Oooh… the one up north? She’s supposed to be really good. Merlin, I wish I could come along!”  
“I’m quite a bit scared.” Hermione admitted.   
“It’ll be fine. Educational at least.” Ginny smiled at her. “The scar looks pretty, though. A good accessory.” She winked.  
“Draco’s is even prettier…” she said dreamily. “I just really want this to work out…” Hermione said lamely.  
“I know. And it will. I’m sure. I know you. You’re a wonderful, wonderful woman, Hermione. He’s lucky to have you.” Ginny smiled at her reassuringly. “And while I don’t know Draco very well on a personal level, I do know, that their marriage was horrible to say the least and that he didn’t publicly cheat on Astoria. It was always her exploits. Now that doesn’t mean that he didn’t get it elsewhere over the years, I grant you that… but, now he’s been granted the chance of a new start. Divorce from the evil witch and focus on a bright future with you.”   
Ginny rose, pulling Hermione with her. They hugged and Hermione nodded. “Thank you. I needed that.”   
“Come on, I want to show you something in the garden. Harry’s built us a firepit in the far corner.”  
“Oh! You’ve been wanting that forever!” They quickly brewed and poured three mugs of tea and went outside, walked across the large lawn, to where Harry was crouched, working on a new project, an outdoor love seat to match the other chairs that sat by the firepit.   
“Good work, Harry!” Hermione said approvingly. “You guys are so lucky.”  
“Thanks, Mione. I like to keep my wife happy.” He replied smiling broadly and accepting the tea Ginny was holding out to him. “Maybe you can bring Draco over when I’ve finished this.”  
“Oh, that’s a lovely idea!” Ginny exclaimed. “I can’t wait to see the two of you together.” She beamed.   
“I would love that as well…” Hermione said shyly. “I’ll see what he says. Tell me about the Charity Event.”  
“Merlin… I’d gotten an invitation from Narcissa a while back and really dreaded going. I was actually hoping to run into Draco to ask him how your guys’ meeting had gone. Ah well… Narcissa tried very hard to keep Astoria in line. She was already drunk when I got there, making crude jokes and just generally being an arse to everyone, very condescending. She was snotty to Narcissa and rude to some other guests. If it had been my event, I would’ve asked her to leave and not in a nice way. But Narcissa took it like a champ, like she always does, ignoring her, making apologies.”  
“That’s sad.”   
“Well, I suppose Narcissa is used to it by now and knows how to handle her. And you should’ve seen Astoria’s dress. Bloody hell… emerald green sequence, cut down to here…” Ginny pointed at just above her navel. “I mean, how old does she think she is?”  
Hermione’s heart dropped and that familiar feeling of not being good enough hit her like a ton of bricks. She’d never dare wear anything like that. She liked things classy and elegant, leave some room for imagination. Hermione wasn’t self-conscious about her body at all. She was slim and fit, had a nice firm bum and fairly well-sized boobs. She loved her nipples especially! But she also didn’t go around parading it in everyone’s face. She preferred ballerinas over high heels, and always had to use a special balancing charm she had developed herself to keep her steady when walking on stilettos. She’d be damned, though, if she was going to let Draco know any of this. She was not about to convince him to be with her. He was old enough to make his own decisions. She didn’t need to sell herself to anyone. Either he liked her the way she was, or he could very well bugger off. And if he’d approved of Astoria’s behaviour he would’ve stayed with her and been happily married for the past 20 years. But he didn’t and he hadn’t. Obviously.   
And with that Hermione’s mood lifted.   
“Well, she is busy appearing fabulous, though, isn’t she?”  
“She’s certainly trying. Some Russian Wizard was clearly lusting after her. Rather obnoxious that whole scene was.” Ginny snorted.   
They talked for a while longer, strolling along the garden, picking dead blooms off different types of flowers and shrubs. It smelled so wonderfully floral here, Hermione had to remind herself to come here more often. She did miss her friends. She inquired after Angelina and Georg, their two kids, Fred and Roxanne, both former students of hers, Roxanne having been a chaser for the Gryffindor Team. Ginny was excited about their trip to the Canary Island day after tomorrow and the conversation went to holidays and perfect get-away spots.   
Eventually they said their good-byes with promises to visiting more often.   
As Hermione was climbing into the Potters fireplace, she felt a slight tingle on her arm, knowing it was Draco connecting to her and redirected her original plan of destination to that of Draco’s office. It was only quarter to two. She’d surprise him!


	10. Chapter 10

10  
“WHAT?” Draco yelled, his face a mask of rage, glaring at Lucius.   
“I can only speculate on how it happened.” Lucius spat, pacing Draco’s office. “But we’ve got to go.”  
“Did they take her to St. Mungo’s?”  
“She’s with the healers, MLE took Astoria away.”  
“That evil conniving bitch!” Draco couldn’t keep his fury under control and his head snapped around angrily when he heard the fireplace roar, and Hermione stepped out.   
Upon seeing the bitterness in his face and feeling she may have overstepped her bounds and into something she wasn’t privy to, she looked at him apologetically, “I’m sorry Draco, I should’ve announced my arrival.” Hermione stepped back, but he caught her hand and drew her towards him.   
“Don’t be silly. No matter, Love.” Relieve flooding his features now. “Small family crisis that’s all.” He kissed her quickly on the lips but then Hermione’s eyes fell upon Lucius.   
She swallowed hard at his pained expression and stammered a surprised “Mr. Malfoy. Hello.” She tried an awkward smile but failed. “My apologies, I didn’t know you were here. I am so sorry, Draco, I’ll leave.”   
“You’ll do nothing of the sort.” Draco insisted.   
“We’ve got to go NOW!” Lucius said impatiently. “Hello Ms. Granger. It’s been a long time. Come along to St. Mungo’s?”  
“Excuse me?”  
Draco drew in a breath. “Astoria’s got in a fight with Mother. In public.”  
“Oh my!” Hermione gasped.   
“Narcissa is at St. Mungo’s, Astoria’s been taken by MLE,” Lucius explained, just as Hermione’s smartphone chimed.   
She pulled out the device, reading the few words from Ginny. Harry had been called to work Astoria’s case. He was after all head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.   
Hermione looked up to Draco “Harry’s already on the case.”   
“No time to waste.” Draco took her hand and they all disapparated together to the Janus Thickey Ward on the fourth floor of St. Mungo’s, where long term patients and spell damages of any kind were treated.   
Hermione landed smoothly but immediately drew Draco into a far corner, feeling her scar ache. “If I’m seen with you, this’ll be in the papers all over the country. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She urged.   
“Bollocks! I will NOT let you out of my sight. I am done with Astoria ruling my life. Our lives.” Pointing in the direction of Narcissa’s room. “I can’t wait for people to know it’s over between us!” he hissed. Then bend down, kissed her hard on the lips and dragged her along after Lucius, who was hurrying off down the long corridor.   
“Okay.” Hermione stammered and relieve flooded her, the ache ebbing away from her scar.   
Draco never let go of her hand, practically running now.   
They heard a suppressed scream and came up on an open door out of which Harry emerged.   
“Mione.” He said surprised. “Long time no see!”  
“No time for social niceties Potter!” growled Lucius. “How are you going to handle this?” he demanded.  
“Once I can speak with Mrs. Malfoy, I will let you know what our next steps are. For now, Astoria’s being detained at headquarters.”  
“Good. I don’t want her to set foot on the Estate ever again.” Turning to Draco he said, “Speak to Padma at once and make sure there will be consequences.” Turning back to Harry he inquired “How long can you keep her?”  
“The longer, the better, I assume.” Harry said. “I will go over there now and see what her story is.”  
“Thank you, Harry.” Hermione said, gave him a quick one-armed hug and followed Draco into his mothers’ room.

Narcissa lay restrained with two healers mumbling spells and several medical witches bustling about. She was writhing in obvious pain, eyes closed, her moaning quickly becoming overwhelming to take. Lucius stared ash-faced, then rushing to her side, trying to take her hand into his, but the healer stopped him, as it may have jeopardized the healing process. Defeated he just stood there, shoulders sagging, worry creased deeply in his features. Reluctantly he moved back and sank into a seat, taking in the scene as if in trance. A nightmare.   
Draco spoke with him in hushed tones, then dragged Hermione out of the room and went in search for Harry.   
They found him, not too far off, talking to another MLE agent.  
“Potter, can I have a word, please?” Draco asked.  
“Sure. What’s up?”  
“Have you found out any more about what happened? I want her prosecuted to the fullest extent.” With a hint of condescension he said threateningly, “I don’t want her lawyers to find any loopholes on grounds of sloppy detective work –“   
“Malfoy,” Harry interrupted immediately. “I will do you the favour and not take this as an insult. An awful thing has just happened. Your mother did most certainly not deserve this. However, I do not, and never have done sloppy detective work. I will work this case as thoroughly as I can. There will not be any room for loopholes when I’m done with this. I promise you that.”  
“Thank you. Just make sure that bitch gets held accountable for her actions.” Draco’s uncharacteristic use of profanity clearly outlined his state of mind.  
But Harry was used to this kind of changed behaviour in challenging situations. “I will.” He held out his hand and Draco shook it.   
“Now, what we know so far is that they got into an argument over Astoria’s behaviour towards the serving staff at the club. It escalated quickly, Astoria calling your mother every name in the book and Narcissa finally having had enough of it, made to leave her with the tab. Astoria then hit her in the back with several curses, one being the Dolohov curse, which Narcissa got the burns from, another one, was Bellatrix’ curse. Luckily, it wasn’t spoken powerful enough, possibly because Astoria had been too intoxicated already. It would’ve killed your mother otherwise.”  
Draco just stared. His mouth had gone dry. He stumbled backwards against the wall and slid down. Hermione went down with him, quickly pulled out a bottle of cool water from her purse and handed it to him. He drank and she wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief she had taken from her pocket. Harry handed him a strong mint drop, to clear his head and prevent nausea.   
“Holy shit.” He said at last. “How did it ever get so fucked up? What the hell did I do?”  
Harry sat down next to him. “Sometimes people just develop in different ways. She’s never been overly friendly.” He offered.   
“No, she hasn’t.” Draco said quietly. He hadn’t let go of Hermione, felt his mark pulse and brought her hand up to his lips now. Kissing her palm, he turned to address her, “Thank you for being here. I can’t do this without you.”   
Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, feeling his anxiety in her and the three of them just sat there for a long while. Every now and then a shriek was heard through the otherwise quiet ward and it cut through them like a blade of ice.   
One of the healers emerged out of Narcissa’s room and Draco got up, pulling Hermione with him. “How is she?”  
“She will be alright.” The healer looked tired, deprived of energy and in desperate need of a recovery potion. Healing took a toll on the practitioner, transferring energy from healer to patient. But Madam Strout took her time as she spoke. “It will take time. The burn marks we’ve treated already, nearly done with them. The pain will subside soon. I’ve given her a dreamless sleep potion just now; she should be fine by morning. The real damage, though, is within the psyche. She needs rest and support. I trust she will find this at the Manor?”  
“She will. There won’t be any more disturbances. I will make sure of that.”  
“Good. That’s what she needs. Good day Mr. Malfoy.”  
“Thank you for everything you’ve done. We will find a way to show our gratitude and repay your efforts.”  
She bowed slightly and left down along the corridor.   
“I’ve got to speak with Padma.” Draco said.   
“So, that’s your lawyer!” Harry said, looking at him impressed. “Good for you! Cost you a pretty knut, but worth every single one I hear.”  
“Tell me about it!” Draco countered. Looking at Hermione he asked, “Can you come along?”.  
“If you like me to. We’re supposed to meet that witch later this afternoon. Around five o’clock. Do you want me to cancel?”  
“No.” He hesitated. “No, don’t cancel. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. It’s only half past two. I’ll go have a quick word with Lucius, we’ll leave then.” He bent down to kiss her softly. “I’d like you to come along. Please.”  
Hermione smiled. “I will.”  
Draco walked down to Narcissa’s room and Hermione and Harry were left behind. Apparently, Draco trusted Harry to look after her, she thought amused.   
“He seems very serious about you. I like that.” Harry noted.  
Hermione smiled shyly, gazing down at the floor, then back up at him. “He does, doesn’t he?”  
“I’ll see you later, okay? I’ve really got to run.”  
“Yeah, yeah. Go! We’ll speak later.” They hugged good-bye and with a pop he was gone, off to the MLE. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Padma’s office was a corner suit of a large law firm in downtown London. She had kept it in muted tones, with accents of blue and bronze, staying true to her Ravenclaw traits. She welcomed them with a warm smile and a surprised, but very heartfelt hug for Hermione.   
After Draco had recounted the events that had taken place only mere minutes before, they set to work right away, drawing up changes to the divorce agreement. Padma felt confident he no longer needed to pay Astoria off, even going as far as putting the search for a flat for her on hold. Astoria may now, under these new circumstances, have to find and afford a place of her own. She still had her family’s wealth to fall back on and she could live with them for the time being, once she was released. Padma filed for a restraining order right away as well, denying her access to Malfoy Estate. She also prepared a parchment to be send to his home with an owl, which ordered the elves to pack up Astoria’s belongings and move those to her family’s home.   
Padma worked swiftly and efficiently so that Draco and Hermione were on their way back to St. Mungo’s within the hour.   
Lucius still sat in the same spot, keeping watch over his wife, with Scorpius for company now.   
He rose when his father and Hermione walked in and grinned a knowing smile in Draco’s direction, but tried in vain to remain nonchalant and straight-faced with his former teacher.   
“Ms. Granger.” He said, extending a hand in greeting.   
“Scorpius, it’s good to see you again!” She smiled. “The circumstances not so much, I’m afraid.”  
“Indeed. She’s been sleeping. The healers said she may come home next week.”  
“That’s good news!” Draco was thrilled and went to crouch down by his father. “We’ve arranged everything with Padma. Is there anything else we can do here?”  
Lucius shook his head tiredly. “No, I think we’re fine. The healers have it under control. Your mother will be sleeping for a while. They will let us know if there are new developments. Scorpius and I were getting ready to leave soon.”  
“Okay. I will be at Hogwarts with Hermione.”  
Lucius looked over and studied her for a moment. “I’m sorry we had to renew our acquaintance like this Ms. Granger. I’d like the next time to be of a happier occasion.”  
“Yes, Sir. As do I.” She went over to shake his hand.  
Draco put his arm around her waist and steered her from the room.   
They walked a few steps down the corridor, before disappearing with the distinct pop of apparition.  
“I feel like a total piece of shit.” Draco confessed when they were back at her flat. “It’s all my fault.” He muttered and paced up and down. “I should’ve seen this coming. I shouldn’t have asked her to take Astoria out for lunch, so we could work in peace.” He walked over to the decanter and poured a hefty glass of Whisky. Throwing his head back he downed it in one gulp. “I should’ve dealt with her myself. Fuck!” he yelled. He put his arm on the window and rested his head against it, staring out unseeing as the heavy rain, that had threated this morning, slashed hard against the glass.   
Hermione came up behind him, sliding her hands up his back and massaged his shoulders and neck. “Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known.” She tried.   
“But that’s just it… I should have known. She’s always been prone to violent outburst. It’s my fault, I didn’t put a stop to it sooner. Now this!” He raised his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “I should have fucking known.”  
Hermione’s hand came around the front to hold him in a reverse embrace, her body pressed to his backside, her cheek on his spine. He held her hands over his heart and said, “Thank you for being there for me.” He kissed her fingers that were curled into his, “You have no idea how much this means to me.” He then turned and held her tight for a long time, no words necessary, just being there, together in the moment, breathing the same air, holding one another.

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

They landed with practiced effortlessness on a spacious wooden porch, which wrapped around a large one-story log cabin. The property was surrounded by a low rubblework wall with a tall wrought iron gate, to keep out unwanted muggle visitors. It sat on a most gorgeous piece of land, flat, with low Highland hills as the distant backdrop. Inverness wasn’t far away, only 10 miles to the west. The views here were stunning, the sky seemingly endless and the clouds that had shrouded Hogwarts in a thick grey blanket were currently non-existent here. The sun was still high in the sky, reaching perfect temperatures of 22°C this time of day.   
It had taken Draco quite a while to come up for air from his terribly bad conscience deep down. The downpour only fueling his foul mood. He’d vowed to right this wrong. Make it up to his mother. Not knowing him well enough yet, Hermione had left him be for the time being. He’d paced up and down some more, muttered, but had accepted tea. He’d then sat on the couch with her, exploring her “strange muggle device” smartphone, becoming increasingly interested. That lightened his mood considerably and when Hermione secretly played with her scar, he’d joyously came out of his stupor, grabbed her and pulled her into his lap, kissing her hungrily. Too bad that had been all they had time for, so the frustration returned to a certain degree. She would make it up to him, she promised.   
“You better,” he had growled then smiled, kissing her softly one last time.   
Draco had changed into a pair of black jeans, a black cardigan, a white vest and black Toms. He looked stunning as ever, Hermione thought. She felt proud to have him by her side, holding her hand. Hermione had donned indigo dark washed skinny jeans, a white cami topped by a mulberry coloured cropped jacket and simple ballerinas.  
A sense of possessiveness over the other lingered palpably between them.   
Hermione took a deep breath of the fresh Highland air and sunshine. “Are you ready?”  
“As ready as one can be, I suppose.” He sighed. Resolutely he took the first step towards the door and knocked.  
The door was answered immediately by a stunning, gracefully aged witch.   
“You must be Hermione and Draco,” she stated pleasantly. Her voice was warm and friendly, her aura an invisible purplish blue, giving off vibes of calm spirituality and intuitive visionary. She stepped aside, opening the door fully, begging them in with a sweeping gesture.   
They stepped inside and were immediately hit with flashback memories of their old Divination Classroom. Professor Trelawney had clearly taken a leaf out of Madam Paellicio’s book. The large room they had entered was dark, lit all around by candles and held in colours of crimson and burgundy. A distinct boudoir-like scent hung in the air, not unpleasant, but feminine and warm, heavy with accentuated sexuality. The scent made Madam Paellicio’s house feel intimate, yet charming and supremely seductive. Jasmine and patchouli, sandal wood, cinnamon and soft powdery vanilla. Intoxicating. Arousing. Their scars began to pulse excitedly.   
The plush furniture invited one to linger and Hermione suspected this was in order to augment income. She and Draco sat down on the extremely comfortable sofa, which seemed to mold to their bodies. Drowsiness spread slowly over her and she heard Draco release a pleasant sigh upon him sitting down very close next to her. Hermione tried hard to stay focused and remain practical, not give into the temptation to reach for her scar and caress it. Or worse reach for Draco’s private parts.   
She felt a sudden wave of beginning arousal hit her intensely and immediately noted Draco squirming, feeling a tingling rise in him as well. They looked at each other in surprise, and Madam Paellicio smiled knowingly.   
“You’re in the right place…” she whispered.   
Draco cleared his throat. “Clearly…”  
Hermione fanned herself and gestured to a decanter filled with water on the low coffee table. “May I?” she stammered.   
“Please… help yourself.” Madame Paellicio said kindly. “Tell me why you’re here. Your message was rather vague.”  
It was Hermione, who cleared her throat now, feeling a bit embarrassed. “It… uhm… I mean… we…” she croaked out as she set her glass back down and looked pleadingly over to Draco, who seemed just as uncomfortable as she was.   
“Well…” he began. “We’ve got a scar.” He stated, feeling foolish.  
“You’ve got a scar? One that you share?”  
“In a sense.” Hermione seemed to have found her voice again. “We each have old marks, that had healed off over the years. They recently came to life in a way. Since we’ve started seeing each other. And we can interact with one another by way of the scar.”  
“How do you mean, Dear?” Madam Paellicio’s green eyes shone with interest and she scooted forward in her low armchair she had sat down in earlier, opposite of them.   
Hermione held out her arm and Draco, who had pushed up his cardigan sleeves, followed suit.   
Madam Paellicio gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my!” She looked up and stared at them for a moment.   
Hermione swallowed hard and Draco shrugged.   
“Bless me for I am fortunate enough to witness such magic at my age! Oh my! Oh my…” Obviously in awe, she continued whispering, “My Lord, you two are so very very lucky. So very very blessed! I am so happy for you. A magical miracle, indeed, …” she trailed off. She seemed ready to break into tears or alternatively jump up to embrace them both. How odd, Hermione thought.   
Neither Hermione, nor Draco knew how to react to this, but rather felt befuddled by her strange words.   
“Could you explain?” Hermione pleaded.  
“I assume you haven’t let anyone else touch it, have you?” She suddenly seemed in hysterics. “You can’t!” She did now jump out of her seat, but to kneel in front of them, the coffee table separating them. “Here, lay your arms on the table.”   
“Why?” Hermione pulled her arm back quickly and Draco did the same, only slower, following Hermione’s lead.   
“Not to worry, Dear. I promise, I won’t taint it for you. Just a precaution. An added security measure, so to speak.” She smiled reassuringly. “People will see it and they will reach for it, so we don’t want them to be able to, shall we say, interact?, with you. I will add a protective charm. It won’t alter its abilities for you two.”  
“Can you please explain first what this is, Madam Paellicio?” Hermione begged.  
“Please, Dear, call me Mauve. Everyone does. My apologies for not offering earlier. How terribly rude of me…” she said shyly.  
Mauve was such a beautiful and kind nature, that surely no one could ever possibly hold anything against her. Her hair was long and thick, intricately pulled back half-way, to allow for her lovely facial features to shine. The silver hair spilled in loose waves down her back, one long curl having found its way down her exquisite cleavage. Her long-sleeved robes were tailored to fit her form perfectly, with a square, extra wide, low neckline, a tiny waist and a long flowing skirt. It seemed to be held together by a single band, laced up front and a quick tuck would spill her gorgeous bosom. Hermione’s fingers itched at the alluring thought. She quickly looked over at Draco, noticing his breath coming in short spurts now and his ears being a wee bit pink at the tips. Gosh he was gorgeous, ready to eat…   
Snapping back to reality she turned towards Mauve again, who still knelt before them.   
“Mauve. Yes, thank you.” She babbled. “Uhm, shall we let her add this charm then, Draco?!” She tried to get his attention back to the matter at hand, out of this aroused trance. Then catching herself, she said quickly “but first, please explain. Please.” Hermione begged.  
Mauve seemed to be comfortable with her knees bend like that, no joint pain apparently, for she stayed in that position. “Very well. This is ancient magic, as you’ve already concluded correctly. It’s a twin flame. Occurs extremely rarely and only in two people who are truly meant for one another. I’ve only heard of one other one, a few hundred years ago. Two lovers, that were prevented from being with each other by fate. But they had vowed to keep a connection, regardless of their circumstances and had found an old wizard in Ireland to perform the ceremony. They were bound together for life but were forced to go their separate ways upon their return to England. When they touched the scar, the other would know, would feel. It had the same shimmering properties as your scar has.” She finished whimsically.   
“We didn’t have a ceremony.” Draco blurted out. “These marks were originally made on two separate occasions, with us not even being friends then.”  
“Were they marks of something good?” Mauve asked.  
“No… mine was…” Draco broke off, but Hermione encouraged him by taking his hand. “Mine was a Dark Mark.”  
Mauve didn’t flinch.   
“And mine was a scar of torture from a Dark witch.”  
“Ah. See?” Mauve said triumphantly.  
Hermione and Draco looked at each other. “No.” They said in unison.   
“You’ve both chosen to turn you backs on the past. Turn towards the light. Towards compassion. Towards Love. I’m quite sure there is another connection there, though. Were you both witnesses to the others demise at the time?”  
Draco cleared his throat again. “I was there when she was tortured.” He said quietly. A knot formed visibly in his throat. “I… I couldn’t do anything for her. I couldn’t help her! I just stood there…” he choked out. He had kept this particular pain locked away, deep down inside, for all these years, never having told anyone about it, never daring to prod. How he had watched his aunt wrestle Hermione to the floor, force the layers of shirt and jacket sleeves up her arm. How Bellatrix had sat on top of her, screaming at her, spit flying. How she had carved the letters into Hermione’s skin and him just watching on. Her screams had reverberated off the walls of the Manors’ cold, black-marbled hall. And he’d just stood there. “I’m so so sorry Hermione. I wanted to. I couldn’t take your screams. It broke my heart. Even then. It killed me.” He croaked. “He would’ve killed me. He would’ve killed me.” He broke off.   
“Draco… it’s okay.” Hermione whispered, leaned over and put her arms around him, her cheek on his shoulder, tears running down her nose. “I know. I know, my Love. We’re here now…”  
He turned and held her, took her face in his hand and kissed her softly.   
“I love you.” He whispered.  
“Oh Draco! And I love you.” She said and kissed him again, tenderly, full of Love.   
After a minute she recovered, dried her tears and they turned their attention back to Mauve, who sat quietly on the plush rug, watching them.   
“Dark Marks were given at dark ceremonies. I assume you weren’t there to witness his assimilation.” She wondered gently.  
Hermione looked down. “No. I wasn’t. I resented him for it.”  
“Many people were forced into it.” She said peacefully, taking his side. “And you see now that he’s not what he was told to be.”  
“I do know. I even knew then. I saw it early on. That he wasn’t what they had told him to be.” Hermione said softly with a smile, looking at him. “It struck my heart while he still had it.”  
“Really?” Draco asked. “When?”  
“Just after Voldemort fell. When you were in the Great Hall with your parents.”  
“And you didn’t say anything?”  
“How could I have?”  
“And there is your connection!” Mauve said happily, bringing her hands together, as if in prayer.   
They both snapped their heads towards her, gaping and looking dumbfounded.   
“Now, shall we add that protective layer then?!” she said smiling, reaching her hands out for them to take.  
And they did. Mauve pulled them into a standing position, facing each other and guided their arms in a way that the shimmering scars touched. Mauve waved her wand and drew a long ribbon out of thin air and bound their touching arms muttering all the while. The incantation was a long one and tingled their scars in the process. With their eyes closed they felt the magic course slowly through their bodies and Hermione became a bit lightheaded and grasped Draco’s elbow more tightly to keep from toppling over.   
“Don’t worry, Love,” he said softly. “I won’t let go. I promise.”  
Hermione smiled and with eyes still closed she raised her hand carefully, searching for his features, gently cupping his jaw. “Thank you,” she breathed. He twisted his head slightly and kissed the palm of her hand.   
Mauve continued speaking quietly, her words a mere mumble and Hermione felt the warmth of magic spreading rapidly now, touching her core, down to her sensitive spot and her hand slid down onto Draco’s chest. “Can you feel that?” she whispered.   
“Yes…” he sighed, his heart hammering. It felt as if they were floating now.   
“I will leave you now,” they registered Mauve’s voice only faintly. “Take your time…” she said as the ribbon slipped away silently. Instinctively they drew into each other’s arms, finding their lips and kissing first tentatively, then with a growing passion, the intoxicating scent ensnaring their senses, their surroundings becoming blurry.   
Hermione opened her eyes, breaking their kiss reluctantly. “Look –“ The room had changed, or they had been moved, she couldn’t be sure now. A room so warm and inviting, dark reds and maroons, no frills, a large bed against one wall and a floor to ceiling window wall opposite with a view across the vast expanse of the fields and hills. The scent here, stronger yet, bewitching their minds further causing their entire bodies to itch for the other.   
“Where did she go?” Draco wondered.  
“Do we care?” Hermione rasped softly.  
“No…” bending down to kiss her again, he buried his hand in her hair, pulling her closer and finding his way down her back with the other.   
Hermione melted into him, their tongues teasing and playing, the tingling intensifying, their breaths growing more erratic.   
“I’m so glad we went casual tonight” Draco spoke into her lips. “No bloody buttons!”  
Hermione smiled and pulled his vest over his head exposing his toned body, the tiny blond hairs and his perfect dark small nipples. She drank him in, her hands exploring his chest before dipping lower unbuttoning his jeans and slipping her hands inside the waistband then gave the briefs a good tuck and set him free. She knelt down, helped him to step out of his garments and ran her hands up his legs, all the while kissing his head, down the shaft and up again. Draco sucked in a long breath and when her hand helped to bend him forward to close her mouth around him, he threw his head back, his hands reached for her hair and let out a drawn out moan of pleasure and satisfaction. “Hermione…” he groaned and started to move his hips to the perfect speed. Draco’s head was swimming and he tumbled faster and faster towards the abyss of pure bliss. Hermione slowed, her tongue teasing his head enticingly. He stepped back, pulling her to her feet, kissing her eyebrow, her cheeks, a peck on the tip of her nose and finally when she couldn’t wait any longer, he dipped down and kissed her swollen lips deeply. He pulled off her top, undid the front closure of her bra, slipped it off her shoulders and took her pale breast into his hands, pinching the nipples firmly. A squeaky moan escaped her lips and Draco buried his face in the bend where her neck met her shoulders and bit alluringly, leaving little marks. His hands found their way down her back and into her panties, still covered with jeans, pushed them both down and she wriggled out, finally naked. He grabbed her bum again, lifted her up, never breaking their renewed kiss and she wrapped her legs around him, his head just barely touching her, driving her absolutely wild with anticipation. “Draco…” she begged. “Please,” she breathed “Don’t make me wait… I can’t. I can’t wait any longer…” she moaned, trying to reach between them to guide him in, but he pinned her against the wall, too high to reach, but instead rubbed her sensitive spot before dipping two fingers inside and making her gasp “Oh my God!” she screamed and began to move with his fingers immediately. He flicked her nipples with his tongue and bit their very tip, making her squirm more, bringing her closer and closer, the palm of his hand perfectly positioned to grind against. She moaned with his rhythm, higher and higher until she broke apart in his hands. When she had caught her breath, he gently carried her over to the bed, lay her down and showered her body with a million tiny kisses.   
“You are so beautiful, my Love.” He said between kisses and with the very tips of his long fingers traced a line from her chin down between her breasts, further on along her stomach. “I just can’t get enough of watching you cum.” He said huskily as he slid between her legs and ever so slowly helped himself inside her. Her back arched and his hands went to support her back and finding a perfect rhythm they made love, slowly, getting lost in each other’s eyes, drinking the other in. They’d never done it so purely, no urgency this time, just being present in the moment. Caring. Loving.   
“I love you, Draco”   
“And I love you, Hermione.”  
They fell asleep for a little while, waking when the sky was dipped in pastel hues of blues and pinks and yellows.


	11. Chapter 11

11  
The skies had turned to indigo with a slim line of gold and pink at the very bottom, by the time they emerged into Mauve’s sitting room from their haven upstairs.   
She waited for them smiling a loving, knowing smile. “I am beyond happy for you two,” she beamed. “Tea?”  
Hermione felt herself flush and hid half-way behind Draco’s shoulder, holding his hand with both of hers, smiling broadly. “Yes, please. That would be lovely,” she said.   
“Draco, it seems you still have a bit of a challenge ahead of you. I can sense some residual conflict in you.”   
A teapot and three delicate cups were brought in by a house-elf and Mauve poured them each a generous amount. The heavenly aroma of the Darjeeling helped to clear some of the residual, though wonderfully intoxicating, drowsiness.   
“You’re right,” admitted Draco. “I suppose I still have a bit on my plate, before Hermione and I are able to fully enjoy our future together.”  
“You’ve been given a most precious gift,” Mauve instructed. “Treat it with respect and work hard to enjoy it soon! Life is too short to waste.”  
“We will,” he said. “I promise.”   
As they made their way to the door, Mauve reached for Hermione’s cheek and gently caressed it motherly. “You are so blessed,” she whispered, and Hermione felt that warm glow in her core and the familiar tingle in her scar.   
“Thank you so much for everything, Mauve,” she said and wrapped the old witch in a long embrace. “How can we ever show our gratitude?”  
“By never letting that twin flame die, Love. Keep it alive.” Mauve answered. “Never turn your back on true love. Despite all the sacrifices and the pain. It’s hard work, but oh so worth it!”  
They thanked her again, walked the short distance to the apparition point and with a pop disappeared from Mauve’s heavenly property. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

While getting dressed Hermione and Draco had decided to stop by St. Mungo’s to check on Narcissa. The ward was dark at this hour, only some dim lights illuminating the corridors.   
Narcissa was alone, breathing slowly, but opened her eyes sleepily when she heard them enter.  
“Draco,” she whispered hoarsely.   
Draco stepped towards her bed and took her hand. “I am so so sorry, Mother.” He kissed her hand and brushed a few stray hairs out of her face.   
“It’s not your fault, Love,” she said quietly. Her gaze fell upon Hermione and then back to Draco enquiringly.   
“Mrs. Malfoy. I hope you are feeling a bit better,” Hermione offered.  
“Hermione and I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Can we get you anything?”  
“Is it ‘we’ already?”  
Draco held out his hand for Hermione to take it. “It is.”  
Narcissa smiled a weak smile and her lids slid down slowly. “I’m fine my Love. I just want to sleep…”  
They stood by her side for a little moment longer, then Draco bend down and kissed her forehead. “I will be back tomorrow. I love you.”  
Narcissa returned to deep, slow breathes and as quietly as they could they left her room, closing the door behind them. 

Harry’s office was their next stop. This being a Sunday night, the Department was dark and nearly deserted but for two agents on call on the other side of the large office space. Harry sat behind his desk in his secluded office, a shaft of light from his not quite closed door, cast a yellow streak along the grey floor.   
“Hi Harry,” Hermione said when she knocked on his door quietly.  
“Hermione, come in!” Harry got out of his chair and came round to hug her and kiss her on both cheeks. “Alright, Draco?” He asked and extended his hand to him. “She’s still being held. Definitely overnight. Then tomorrow she’ll be presented to the court.”  
“Alright. I’ve spoken to Padma. Astoria won’t return to the Estate. Padma’s arranged everything.”   
“Good. How is your mother?”  
“Thankfully, alive.” Draco made a face and looked down. “Is there anything Hermione and I can still do here?”   
“Nah… I’m about to head out as well. It’s been a long day.”  
“It has. Thank you for everything you’ve done. Good night, Harry,” Hermione said, going in for a final embrace.   
“Do you, uhm… do you guys want to join us for a BBQ next Saturday? Albus is having Scorpius and some others over, showing off the fire pit I assume. How about it?”  
Draco smiled at Hermione, who beamed but clearly left the decision up to him. “I think we would like that,” he said resolutely.   
“Cool.” Harry smiled back. “I’ll tell Ginny. She’ll be over the moon!”  
Hermione clapped her hands. “Oooh, that’s gonna be so fun! Anyone else coming?”  
“Ron, obviously. Romilda is visiting her parents that weekend and George and Angelina will be there.”  
“Can I bring anything? – I mean, can WE bring anything?”  
“Best talk to Ginny about that. I’m sure your presence will be plenty.”  
“Alright, well, good night Harry,” she went on her tip toes and kissed his cheek.  
“Good night you two,” Harry smiled, and Draco gave a friendly nod before they left the MLE. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

They hit the pillows almost instantly. The days’ events had taken its toll and both Draco and Hermione were dead tired. Hermione had slipped into her pyjamas and snuggled against Draco’s body; his nose nestled in her curls. He loved hearing her slow breaths, her heartrate relax and the tiny noises she made while she fell asleep. He had never experienced this kind of pure contentment before. Never known a closeness like this. His thoughts drifted involuntarily to his soon to be ex-wife. In the beginning he had felt that he deserved nothing more than her cool demeanour, after all he had tried to kill Dumbledore. His guilt had ridden him hard, for years, but he’d worked through it, and yet still he had continued to be treated like vermin by his wife. They hadn’t shared affection. There had never been any sweetness. A sort of detachment had ruled, coolness, an invisible line, one mustn’t cross. Draco soon longed for companionship and friendly words and had thus taught his son the values he so sorely missed. With his reputation having been ruined once before, and so early in his life, he wasn’t about to repeat that by cheating on his wife. The Malfoys had remained in the spotlight and Draco had worked very hard to build his business and keep his reputation sparkling clean. By possibly finding a source of affection for him, he would have jeopardized this. So he had endured. The divide between Astoria and him growing ever larger. Astoria had never been an enthusiastic lover. Sure, she had willingly spread her legs for him and often climbed on top of him in the middle of the night, even until about a year ago, but it had been in complete silence. Lights off, no sounds, taking what she needed, giving nothing back. No passion, no warmth.   
This brought him back to Hermione, whose warmth was spreading through him from his hair to his toes and everything in between. He had now lain there, loathing on Astoria for nearly two hours, going over scenarios how he’d love to repay her for what she’d done to him and his family over the years and today in particular. But then his fingers started absentmindedly moving Hermione’s curls from her neck to expose the glorious pale flesh. He caressed it softly, ran his fingers along her shoulders and slowly down her arm. He didn’t want to wake her yet. Not yet… She lay spooned into him on her right side, the duvet covering her all the way up to her neck. Her pyjama top being a soft cotton camisole granted him free reign of her delicious skin, though. Carefully he pushed the blanket back a little and she shifted just the tiniest bit, rolling more onto her back, opening up, her arm now in perfect position, the scar shimmering, calling him. He felt the invitation in the spot just below his navel, a tingling heat spreading, excitement building. His own mark pulsed, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. His fingertips grazed her scar and she moaned longingly in her sleep. Her nipples rose like perfect tiny marbles under the light blue cotton. “Yes…,” he breathed and went to touch them, pinch them. His desire for her grew and he cupped her breast, massaging needingly. Hermione moaned deeply and licked her lips, her eyes still closed, not quite awake yet. Draco moved away a bit, to allow her to fully roll onto her back, then slipped his warm hands under her top to bare her breast and tenderly bit the tip of her nipple. She gasped, tilted her head back and arched into him. “More Draco…,” she mumbled. She squeaked and moaned as he bit and nibbled and licked. She reached for her pyjama bottoms, pushed them off, brought her legs up onto her heels and opened up for him. He took in a sharp breath, his erection becoming painfully hard with an urgent need to bury himself into her. He pulled his briefs off, knelt between her legs and kissed the inside of her tights, making her beg for him. Christ, how he had longed for that. To hear her say his name again in such need, such desire. It drove him absolutely mad and he couldn’t hold back much longer. His need for her to whimper and beg and say his name was overpowering. He bent down, ran his tongue along the entire length of her dark pink folds and flicked his tongue a few times over her sensitive spot, making her squirm and she began moving her hips for more. “More, Draco, more…,” she moaned and finally opened her eyes. The desire and need for him in her eyes broke his restraint and he moved up, holding himself in position and entered her with ease. He let out the longest breath, which he seemed to have kept in forever. This was it, he thought. Her heat enveloping him, the firm hold she had on him, moving with him, encouraging him to go faster, wilder. He was afraid if he was going to keep up this tempo, he’d soon burst, but he held on, thrusting hard, making her grasp the sheets and tilting her head back. How he adored seeing her breast bounce, but then she suddenly slowed down and made him pull out. He watched her turn around, pull her knees up and bringing her perfect bum up high. “Bloody hell, Granger…,” he hissed and slapped her upside the luscious cheek. She gasped and wiggled her behind, begging for him to take her. “Draco, please… fuck me. Please…just fuck me,” she whined looking back at him over her shoulder. He tore into her then in a mad frenzy, his stamina astounding him once again. She reached between her legs and drew wet circles around her spot, bringing herself closer and closer to find her release, while he held her hips tight and shagged her like a maniac. When her breathing came is short, squeaky spurts, he willed himself to let go, thrust a few more times and felt her hot muscles clench around him and he came hard and long, feeling it all the way in his toes. His head swam as she groaned one last time, her orgasm ebbing away slowly.  
“By Merlin, Draco… that was sensational,” she said breathlessly. “Thank you.” She smiled and reached for his face to kiss him, as he lay down beside her.  
“Why, you’re quite welcome,” he smirked proudly. “I’m here all week, milady. At your service,” he joked. She laughed and he held her in a tight embrace and finally fell into an easy sleep, knowing all would be alright, if she was there with him, holding his hand. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Monday morning found Draco, Lucius and Scorpius walking down the dark tiled corridors in the lower levels of the Ministry of Magic to find courtroom 4, where Astoria’s trial would be held.   
There were only a few other spectators here craning their necks towards the door, through which Astoria would be led in. Since all this had only happened the day before, apparently not many had had a chance to attend such a controversial hearing at such short notice.   
The Malfoys took their seats near the prosecution, sending a clear message that Astoria’s actions were clearly met with contempt. Then Astoria’s family arrived, glaring at them, seating themselves close to where Astoria would be asked to sit.   
The low murmur of conversations around the courtroom suddenly stopped and Astoria was escorted in, her hands bound by magical restraints, dressed in mouse-grey robes, her hair a mess, no makeup and a blank stare.   
She was sat down, her hands bound to the chairs’ arms, her feet receiving the same treatment on the legs of her seat.   
It was all over rather quick. The indictment was read, Harry Potter presented the MLE’s evidence, Madam Strout, the healer, gave her testimony on Narcissa’s condition, while Astoria’s overly dramatic and interruptive outbursts didn’t help her case at all. The court deliberated mere minutes and came back with a six months sentence in Azkaban for Astoria.   
Even from where Draco was sitting, rather far away from his not-quite-yet ex-wife, he saw that Astoria’s face turned from an ashen expression at first to an extremely ugly contortion of rage and hate in a befitting shade of crimson. Her eyes seemed to be boiling, her hands and feet tucking at the restraints, trying to pry them lose. She screamed obscenities at everyone near her, at one point whipping around in Draco’s direction and spitting vile insults at him and Lucius. Obviously, she didn’t care that her son sat in between the pair.   
The guards approached her then, and one of them drew his wand Brachiabindo’ed Astoria so invisible bonds strapped around her, preventing her from moving and added a Silencio spell on top for good measure.   
That’s when it happened. Astoria’s eyes rolled back into head, convulsing uncontrollably, foam soon forming at her mouth, dripping onto the courtroom’s floor.   
The guard, though shocked, quickly spoke the Emancipare spell to release the binds and laid her onto the cold floor. Astoria’s body heaved with spasms and eventually became still, as if dead, eyes staring, her chest rising and falling deeply as her breathing slowed.   
Scorpius had shot out of his seat, and rushed to her side, but was pushed away harshly by his maternal grandmother. He was knocked back onto his bottom and scrambled back, stunned, then finding his footing again and watched helplessly as Astoria was carried away by four mediwizards.   
The courtroom immediately erupted in speculative talk and mumbling, and Draco, Lucius and Scorpius left unnoticed by most through the side door they had entered from. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

There was an owl tapping on Draco’s office window later in the afternoon. The parchment informed him that Astoria had suffered a seizure. She was at St. Mungo’s, the second floor thankfully, the ward for “Magical Bugs”, treating magical ailments and diseases. Nowhere near Narcissa. A good thing.  
Draco took his time tidying up his desk, then grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, let his secretary know, he’d be gone for the rest of the day and stepped into the fireplace.   
He went to see Narcissa first. She was propped up in bed, Lucius by her side.  
“She’s on the second floor,” Lucius drawled.   
“Yeah, I had an owl. I suppose I should have a look,” Draco shrugged. “How are you, Mother?” he asked as he bend down to kiss her.   
“I’m fine my Love. Still a bit shaky, but they said I could probably return to the Manor tomorrow.”  
“That’s fantastic!”  
“I’ve arranged for a medical witch to take care of her at the Manor while she’s recovering,” Lucius said.  
“Good. Good… Well, I should go talk to someone downstairs.”  
“Do share the good news,” mocked Lucius making a face.  
Draco harrumphed and left to find a healer on the second floor. He ran into one as he entered the ward and asked who oversaw Astoria. He pointed towards the mediwizards workstation, which was set in the middle of the corridor with easy access to the surrounding rooms.  
When Draco approached, a stern looking wizard raised his head. “Malfoy is it?” he barked.  
Taken aback and slightly annoyed by the reproachful greeting, Draco said, “As a matter of fact, it is. Can you tell me what happened?”  
“She had a seizure. We’ve run some tests,” he rummaged around some patient files in front of him until he found what he was looking for. “Were you aware of your wife’s condition?”  
“My wife’s condition?”  
“Seems like there’s a genetic blood malady at hand. Like I said, we ran tests, and we found out it is actually a blood curse.”  
“A blood curse?”   
The Mediwizard looked at him crookedly. “Yes, a blood curse. One of her ancestors must’ve been cursed with it and it’s ran its course through her family. It’s been dormant, obviously.”  
“Obviously.”  
“Do you always repeat what other people say?”  
Draco shot him an ice-cold look and asked, “What does that have to do with the seizure?”  
“We think the shock of her sentence triggered the curse to surface and caused the seizure. She’s extremely frail now. She’s in room 244, down the hall to the left.”  
“How long will she have to stay here?”  
“Depends…,” he shrugged. “Like I said, she’s frail. She may recover, it may take a while, or she may not at all.”  
Draco didn’t respond, just stared down the corridor. What was he supposed to do now? He didn’t quite feel dutybound to be with her and abruptly decided against it. Her family would be there, he was sure. He’d see if Scorpius wanted to visit her later.   
He thanked the Mediwizard, who nodded in response. He turned towards her room and for now chose to only walk over there and sneak a peek. As he came closer, he heard voices speaking in hushed tones. He couldn’t be sure yet, if it came from her room, which was still a few doors down. Her door was open though and he saw shadows dancing across the floor. Someone was definitely with her. As he crept closer it sounded very much like Astoria’s mother, who he couldn’t stand at all, pacing the room. Draco turned on his heels and headed in the opposite direction, back up to the fourth floor.   
He took the stairs, glad for the exercise. His mind was racing… sure, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her, but death? He hadn’t expected that. He felt sorry for Scorpius. It was his mother after all.   
Dragging his feet, he reached the door to Narcissa’s room. He threw his jacket over a chair by the window and wordlessly poured three steaming cups of tea from the teapot that sat on the nearby side table. Both Lucius and Narcissa studied him, waiting for him to elaborate. Lucius re-adjusted Narcissa’s pillows, so she could sit up taller and take the brew.   
“They’re not sure, when or if she will recover.” Draco said as he handed Lucius a mug. “It seems her family has been cursed with a blood malady a few centuries back.”  
“What?” Lucius boomed incredulously.   
“They ran some tests.”  
“How long have they known? Did Astoria know? No one bothered to tell us this!” Lucius fumed. “We wouldn’t have arranged this match!”  
“Not that is was a good match to begin with,” Narcissa mumbled.  
“They must’ve known,” Draco said. “It’s been running it’s course in the Greengrass’s family for generations.”  
“Unbelievable!” Lucius was livid. “After all this! If its genetic, she may have passed it on to Scorpius!”  
Draco’s heart sank. He hadn’t even thought of that! That sly bitch!!   
“Then our first task must be to get Scorpius tested.” Narcissa said matter-of-factly. “Bring him here, Draco. My healer will be discreet. And she’s thorough!”  
“Yes,” he angrily ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t even think of that. Fuck!”  
“Draco!” his mother scolded.  
“Apologies, Mother.” He started pacing up and down. “Now what? Do I put a hold on the divorce to see if she makes it or not?”  
“Absolutely not!” Lucius exclaimed. “It’s all been filed already anyway. Let it run its course.”  
“Go get Scorpius, Draco. We’ve got to get him tested.” Narcissa urged.   
“You’re right. We’ll be back in a bit,” he said, drinking the last of his tea, then set the cup down and picked up his jacket. “Won’t be long.”  
Draco walked out towards the apparition point trying to decide where to find his son at this hour. It was just before five, he’d surely still be in his office. He hit the beige flooring of Malfoy Investments front office and the girl at reception smiled pleasantly at him, chirping “Hello Mr. Malfoy, Scorpius is in his office I believe.”  
“Thank you, Sera,” Draco said, walking swiftly along the soft carpeting swallowing the sounds of his every step.   
The opaque floor to ceiling glass panel between Scorpius’ office door and wall revealed that his son was pacing much in the same way he did. He was avidly speaking and abruptly stopped when Draco knocked and entered without waiting to be bade in. A black Quick-Quote quill was hovering impatiently over a writing pad, following Scorpius’ every step.   
“Dad!” Scorpius said surprised and immediately turned serious upon seeing his father’s sour expression. “What’s up?”  
“Where to start?” Draco hesitated. “It seems your mother has a genetic blood malady we need to have you checked for.”  
“A genetic blood malady? I didn’t know about this.”  
“Apparently no one did,” Draco frowned. “Are you nearly done here for the day? I need to take you to see a healer.”  
“Like now?”  
“Like now, yes.”  
“Uhm, okay, hang on,” Scorpius quickly commanded the quill and pad to rest on his desk, donned his coat, locked his office with a swift wave of his wand and off they were back to St. Mungo’s. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione was worried. She wasn’t even sure why. It was nearly six now and she hadn’t heard from him all day, nor had her scar tingled. Probably her insecurities kicking in again.  
Draco had left early this morning, looking immaculate. His charcoal suit, the dark shirt and tie, tailored to perfection. The scent of his cologne hung in the air. She loved how his presence lingered. They had showered together this morning and couldn’t keep their hands off each other, which was absolutely wonderful. So why was she worrying?   
She dialed Harry’s number and got him on the second ring.  
“Hey,” she said. “How did it go today?”  
“Hey! Yeah… it went quite well. For us. Not for her so much.”  
“I can imagine.”  
“Draco hasn’t told you anything yet?”  
“He’s not back yet.”  
“Well, she’s got six months in Azkaban. She threw a massive fit and had to be restrained and silenced. She had a seizure then and is currently at St. Mungo’s.”  
“WHAT?” Hermione gasped. “Are you serious?”  
“Yeah. It was quite the show…”  
“Oh, my Lord. Okay… wow,” she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Was he with her now? Once more she was reminded, that she hadn’t felt him all day. Maybe he realized he still loved her after all. That’s bollocks! Hermione pushed away that stupid thought. He was probably just busy arranging things.   
“Don’t worry, Hermione.” Harry caught on to her silence. “You knew it wasn’t going to be easy.”  
“Yeah…”  
“He already seems very protective of you, though. That’s a good sign.”  
Again, she just said, “Yeah…”  
“Talk soon, okay?”  
“Talk soon,” she promised and cut the call.   
Hermione shuffled into the small kitchen and hit the button on the kettle. She chose a fennel seed, anis and caraway herbal tea to settle the growing unease in her stomach. The sun was bright again, and she carried the steaming mug out onto the patio. The fresh air and late sunshine helped to rid her of depressing thoughts, but when he still wasn’t back by nine, she changed into her pyjamas and went to bed, her book not catching her interest at all. She must’ve dozed off, for when she finally heard him come through the fireplace, it was pitch dark outside.   
Draco silently crept into the bedroom with a faint lumos at the tip of his wand.   
“You’re so late…,” she mumbled sleepily. “What time is it?”  
“Nearly midnight.”   
She heard him undress, doing a quick trip to the bathroom and then felt a rush of air, as he carefully peeled back the thick duvet and climbed in beside her. His scent triggered the tingling and she snuggled up to him.   
“You’re so nice and warm,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her.   
“What took you so long?”  
“I’ll tell you tomorrow… ,” he yawned, pulling her closer to him.   
She didn’t say anything, but lay awake, feeling him fall asleep. His breathing became slower, in a way content and deep, but her mind didn’t stop its destructive work. Why hadn’t she felt him all day?   
The bright moonlight of the cloudless night shone through the tall windows and fell in a wide beam onto her bed, caressing the porcelain skin of his hand and arm, which he had wrapped around her on top of the blanket. His scar glittered beautifully in the exquisite pale white light, a true wonder to behold. She felt relieve wash over her, that the mark didn’t seem to have lost any of its properties on the outside. Would it show though if his feelings inside had changed? Would it show an inner struggle, a turmoil? What if he suddenly felt a return of his old feelings for Astoria, but with a pang she realized, they had never really talked about that, about his marriage, his feelings, why it had become so bad. She was purely speculating.   
With instant resolve, she made a mental note to get over her insecurities and ask him about it. Harsh reality was always better than false hope.  
She broke out of his hold, took his hand into hers, kissed his scar good night and with their marks touching finally fell asleep as well.


	12. Chapter 12

12  
Draco woke up with the sun not quite risen yet. The double French doors stood open, letting in cold morning air and Hermione standing by the edge of her patio with a steaming mug in her hands, looking out over the gorgeous Scottish Highlands.   
He threw back the duvet, reached for his wand and with an easy up and down motion, was dressed in sweatpants, a warm hoody and Birkenstock clogs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her head.  
“Good morning Sunshine.”   
“Good morning my Love,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. She offered him her tea and he took it, sipping carefully.   
“What a fantastic sunrise,” he said between drinks, handing the cup back to her.   
“Isn’t it? I can never get enough of that.”  
Draco smiled into her hair and held her a bit tighter. “I’m so grateful we get to share this.”  
“Me, too. That’s what it’s really about, isn’t it? Sharing the little things. Being together, holding each other, witnessing moments like this.”  
“It is,” he murmured. “Hermione… I’m so in love with you. I just wanted you to know.”  
Hermione turned around to face him. The early morning light hit his features so beautifully, his eyes a clear blue filled with Love. He slowly brought his hands up to cup her face and kissed her softly.   
“And I am so very much in love with you, Draco. It’s beyond belief really.” She lowered her eyes then and said, “I was really worried yesterday, I didn’t feel you at all and thought maybe… maybe you’d changed your mind and…,” she broke off.   
“I haven’t changed my mind,” he said quietly.  
They stood in silence for a little bit watching the spectacular show in the distance.   
“Can we talk about what happened?” Hermione started carefully.  
“Ugh,” he groaned. “Yesterday was a disaster. She –“ he began, but Hermione interrupted him.  
“Well, actually, can we back up a bit? And end with yesterday?”  
“Uh, sure.” He said. “Where do you want to start?”  
“What happened in your marriage?”  
“Oh. Uhm. Well, it really was quite shit to begin with. The marriage was arranged, as you know…” and he told her about how quickly and severely the marriage had broken, about how he had felt obligated to stick with it for his family’s sake and Scorpius.   
Draco then took her hand and led her back inside, closed the door and cast a quick warming spell. They huddled together on the couch under her blanket and he continued his tale. He told her about Astoria’s issues with violence, her abuse of anything inferior to her and her status, the house-elves, staff and of course muggle-borns. He ended with yesterday’s events, Astoria’s genetic blood malady and how he had taken Scorpius to get tested, having to wait for results, those finally coming back negative, taking him out to dinner to celebrate and talking until late at his sons new flat. He’d also gone to see Padma again, while waiting for the results, to inform her of the latest developments. Padma, like Lucius, had insisted on pushing the divorce through regardless, things needing to be settled once and for all.  
“So… ,” Hermione felt a knot form in her throat and she was struggling to find the right words. “Would you have rather waited to divorce, to see if she would recover?”  
“Not really, no. I just… I don’t know. It felt like a shit move.”  
“What if she does pass?”  
“I suppose she’ll be buried on her family’s estate,” he said matter-of-factly.   
“I meant how do you feel about it?”  
He pressed his lips into her hair, not answering directly. “I feel sad for Scorpius. But he will pull through, he’s strong and he’s got us.”  
She put her head on his shoulder and asked, “What about your house on the Estate?”  
“I’ve been pushing that issue far far away, honestly. It’s not important right now.”  
“What about the house-elves?”  
“What about them?”  
“Well… they’ll be alone in the house, I suppose.”  
“I suppose so. But they’ll stay on. I’m sure if they get bored, you’ll be able to find them work at Hogwarts,” he teased and ruffled her hair.   
“You know,” Hermione said after a moment. “It does bother me that I didn’t feel you at all yesterday.”  
“It got so hectic so fast yesterday, that I had Sondey bring me some dressings-“   
“Who’s Sondey?”  
“My personal house-elf.”  
“Ah.”  
“I had Sondey wrap up my arm so I wouldn’t be distracted.”  
“Distracted?” Hermione pulled away from him. “Am I a distraction to you?”  
“What? Don’t be daft! I just…” he broke off, clearly looking for words.  
“You just thought it’d be nice to not have a connection to me?” she offered, agitation growing rapidly.  
“Really?”  
“Yeah, really!!” Hermione got up, suddenly furious and tossed the blanket into the corner of the couch away from him and stalked off into the kitchen.  
“You think I’d choose to ignore you?”  
“You clearly did!!”  
“No, I didn’t!”  
“Yes, you did, Draco!”  
“Fuck!” Draco got up as well and started pacing. “Will you just listen to me without making assumptions?”  
“How can I not jump to conclusions when you intentionally hide our link under layers and layers of dressings?”  
“I was fucking busy!” he spat. “And I can hardly walk around with a massive hard-on every time you decide to tease me by touching your scar.”  
“When have I ever done that during the day?”  
Draco stopped pacing, spun around and glared at her. He heaved a great sigh and reluctantly admitted “Never.”  
“Huh. Quelle surprise!” she spat back in perfect French.  
“I just… It tingles all the time. And the pull is so strong when you do touch it, and I didn’t want to risk it. I knew I wouldn’t be able to answer your call.”  
“I’ve never “called” you,” she choked. “Merlin knows, I’ve wanted to. I happen to know of the pull, the need. But I’m a professor. At Hogwarts. I can hardly allow myself to be sucked into my desires in the middle of the day! I can start, though, if you like! Probably won’t be before classes are out,” she added sarcastically.  
“Hermione… I can not get enough of you. Of us! It’s not just the need to shag you all the bloody time. It’s so much more than that and you know this! I really want to spend every waking minute with you. Share everything with you. Really become us. This is all happening so fast and it’s so overwhelming and my heart is bursting with joy just thinking about it, even without the tingling. I don’t ever want to be without you!”  
“And yet you cut off our connection!” A tear rolled down Hermione’s cheek. “I felt nothing yesterday,” she whispered. “Nothing. Nada. Zilch!”  
“I noticed that, too,” Draco said softly. “I admit, I didn’t notice until late. I’d been so busy, I kept running about from one place to another, too much excitement for one day.” He went and hit the button of the kettle and leaned against the counter. “It was nearly eleven when we left the restaurant and that’s when I noticed I hadn’t felt anything all day. I didn’t like it at all. I wanted nothing more than to be rid of the dressings. To feel you. I took them off at Scorpius’ place and came home almost immediately after that.”   
The kettle beeped to announce it was finished heating the water to a perfect 80°C temperature. He dropped tea bags into two large mugs and poured the water.   
Hermione silently watched him prepare strong brews and wondered where he’d learned that. She’d ask him when she’d stopped seething, she decided.   
Draco, meanwhile, removed heavy cream from her compact refrigerator and poured small amounts to make them dark, chocolate coloured teas.  
“I was wrong,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have wrapped it up. I shouldn’t have hidden it. I realized last night that I need you with me. I would’ve handled yesterday a whole lot better, if our connection would’ve been open, or better yet, if you would’ve been with me.” He took a step towards her and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”   
His eyes dropped to her lips and bend down to kiss her tenderly.   
At first she resisted, trying to show him how disappointed and hurt she was, but as soon as she took a breath and inhaled his alluring scent her resistance melted away like snow on a warm spring day and she parted her lips to accept his apology.   
“I was very worried,” she said when they broke their kiss. “And scared. I thought you may have … you know… remembered who I am. What I am. And that you decided against me and in favour of her.”  
“I haven’t. I won’t. Please don’t worry about that anymore. I love you very much my most beautiful muggle-born Gryffindor, Hermione Granger.”   
She raised her lips to his again and said, “and I love you so very much my stunning pure-blood Slytherin, Draco Malfoy.” Another kiss. “Let’s not cover our scars anymore. Please.”  
“Never again. I promise.”  
They took their mugs, returned to the couch for a little longer, cuddled up again under the blanket and watched as the colors of the morning changed from pastels to bright blues and whites. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

The week passed quickly. Narcissa returned to the Manor on Wednesday, a matronly Mediwitch in tow. She was recovering nicely and both Draco and Scorpius, not to mention Lucius, were in happy moods.   
Astoria’s condition however had not changed, she continued to be frail, but stable for now. Scorpius had gone to see her twice at the beginning of the week but was rudely shoved out by his maternal grandmother claiming Astoria wasn’t fit to receive visitors. So he’d stopped going.   
Draco returned to Hermione’s flat every night, going back to regular office hours. His staff had noticed a change in him as well, as Hermione had heard from Ginny.   
They made love all the time. Sometime wild and primal, sometimes slow and consciously. Their bond seemed to strengthen and while the tingling of their scars persisted, it wasn’t a distraction anymore, it was a reminder, that the other was present. It granted them stability, trust and an unmistakable sense of ownership. In a good way.   
When Saturday arrived sunny and warm, Hermione was very much looking forward to seeing her best friends again at the Potter’s BBQ, and also to show off their wonderful home to Draco.   
Draco was glad to spend the afternoon with both his son and Hermione. Anything else was an added bonus he reckoned.   
Hermione had spoken to Ginny and promised to bring bacon-wrapped water chestnuts to the party. The sweet and spicy, chili and brown sugar BBQ dip, which the chestnuts were served with, bubbled lazily away on her stove top. Draco was proud to announce that he had single handedly prepared it by Hermione’s mothers’ recipe, the muggle way. They had wrapped the water chestnuts in bacon, then placed them in neat rows on cookie sheets to be baked in the oven until crisp and glistening. Hermione had doubled the recipe as these tended to be devoured extremely fast.   
She had then changed from her at-home-look of high waisted leggings and a crop top to a soft flowing maxi dress, which showed off her figure most gorgeously. The dress was a summery affaire, in white and soft yellow, featuring a high neck and exposing her shoulders beautifully. She had wrapped a thin cognac coloured belt loosely around her waist and strappy sandals of the same colour completed her look. Draco could hardly keep his hands off her bum, the way it swayed alluringly under the fabric.   
He himself had donned dark cargo shorts and a thin charcoal T-Shirt hugging his slim frame. Hermione stepped closer to kiss him and then dipped down to peck small kisses on his collar bones, which were exposed by the wide neckline.   
“Hey, you need to stop this at once,” he growled, letting his hands settle on her bum, pulling her closer to him and pressing his hips into hers. He kissed her deeply and she wrapped her arms longingly around his neck.   
“If only we had time…,” she said softly between kisses.  
“If only…” But Draco couldn’t resist smacking her bottom and she squeaked a high-pitched cry of surprise and laughed, “Ouch! That stung!”  
“You deserved that for looking so delicious. You’ll make all the boys randy wearing that devilish dress,” he hissed.  
“Am I making you all hot and bothered?”  
“Christ, Mione, you know you do…” he bent down and kissed her again but released her quickly. “We best get going…we’ll get into trouble.”  
“Yeah,” Hermione sighed. “We best.”  
At two o’clock they floo’ed to Harry and Ginny’s with a large container of delicious goodies.   
“We’re here!” announced Hermione as they both stepped out of the Potter’s fireplace.   
“Hermione,” the voice of Albus drifted to them out of kitchen. “Come in. Come in!”  
“Albus, I haven’t seen you in ages!” she cheered happily as they pushed through the door into the bright and quite contemporary kitchen space. She dropped the container onto the big island in the middle of the kitchen and went to hug Albus tightly and kissed his cheek. “How are you, Love?”  
“I’m good! Brilliant actually,” he smirked. “I can’t wait to introduce you to someone later.”  
“Oh really? Someone I know?”  
Albus blushed a bit, “Possibly…”  
“Oooh!” Hermione chirped and clapped her hands. “How exciting!”  
Albus returned to pouring iced tea into a large pitcher and addressed Draco friendly. “Mr. Malfoy. I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to our home.”  
“Thanks, Albus! It’s quite nice!”  
“You haven’t seen anything yet!” Hermione promised. “Just wait until you see the garden…”  
“Mum and Dad are already out there, if you want to show him the way.”  
“I will in a minute. Where did your mum set up for the BBQ? I brought bacon-wrapped water chestnuts,” Hermione beamed excitedly.  
“Oh! Did you? I love those!!” Albus pointed towards the back door. “She’s got it all outside, by the grill.”  
“Is Scorpius here already?” Draco tried to catch a glimpse at the small crowd outside. The BBQ didn’t officially start until half past two, but there were a few people already mingling, mostly friends of Albus and Scorpius, Draco assumed.   
“He is. He’s helping Dad with something.”  
“We’ll find him, I’m sure,” Hermione smiled.   
They crossed the homey and airy living room of natural woods and cream coloured furniture, light walls and flourishing plants, more books and a huge sliding glass door, affording spectacular views of the back garden.   
Hermione and Draco stepped out of the living room onto a wooden deck, which was covered by a wooden pergola with strings of tiny party lights woven in and out of the beams. Caribbean looking outdoor furniture with pillows in shades of turquoise and green invited to lounge comfortably and looked simply splendid against the backdrop of the lawn and colourful garden, not to mention today’s bright blue skies.   
Hermione’s dress moved silkily in the warm breeze as they crossed the lush lawn. Towards the back of the garden another patio, paved with large slate tiles, featured a stand-alone pergola, this one with a full roof to protect an outdoor kitchen, outfitted with an enormous grill, a smoker, some counterspace and a kitchen sink.   
Away from the patio to the left, was an in-ground fire pit with Adirondack Chairs around it, while off towards the right, behind the kitchen was an irregular shaped Koi pond, with a small bridge at one curvy corner.   
Draco was thoroughly impressed. He was used to large spaces, immaculate and luxurious landscaping, but this - this clearly took the cake. He felt immediately comfortable.  
As they came closer, they saw it was indeed mostly Albus’ and Scorpius’ crowd, everyone in a celebratory happy mood. The chatter was loud and cheery while an upbeat mix of muggle and wizard music was playing from hidden speakers.   
Scorpius turned and upon seeing Draco and Hermione approach, he broke away from his friends and came towards them, “Father! Professor G!”  
“Professor G?!” Draco grinned broadly.   
“I used to be their teacher, remember?”  
Now more heads turned, and Harry and Ginny came over as well.  
“Hello, you two,” Ginny said happily embracing them each. Then she leaned over to Hermione, kissed her and whispered, “You guys look delicious together!” She smiled mischievously and pulled Hermione away from the men, towards where she had set up the food. Hermione deposited the container and began twirling her wand to arrange her treats on a large serving platter. She had blushed at Ginny’s words and whispered back, “I’m still a bit nervous. Doesn’t he look stunning, though? Gosh, I do adore him…”  
“Don’t worry, Love. No need to be nervous. He’s doing just fine, look.”   
And indeed, when Hermione turned, she saw Draco in casual conversation with Harry and Scorpius and more people coming over to say hello.  
“Wow, Potter! I love what you’ve done with the place,” Draco announced unexpectedly.   
Stunned, Harry said, “Thanks, Malfoy. Where did that come from?”  
“I just like what you did here. Take a compliment, mate. Well done!”  
“It took a few years, but it turned out quite nice, didn’t it?” Harry said proudly.  
Slowly more guests trickled in and Hermione noticed Draco became more relaxed. She hadn’t really been aware of him being apprehensive, he certainly hadn’t said anything, but seeing the barely noticeable change now, he must’ve been nervous about coming here.   
They stayed close to each other, Draco keeping his arm wrapped around her waist, hand on her hip or she had her arm draped around his arm, holding on to him or just simply holding hands. Ginny asked about their meeting with the sex witch and they showed off their shimmering scars proudly, for the first time being able to have others touch it. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary happened when Ginny and Harry touched Hermione’s left forearm, other than the regular cool touch of skin on skin.   
Their scars became a bit of a topic for a few moments then, and nearly everyone wanted a look. Except Ron. He kept a distinct distance to Hermione and Draco, clearly not approving.   
“Had to be him, eh?” he asked Hermione on a rare occasion when Draco was getting them drinks.   
“Yeah…,” Hermione hesitated a moment, but decided to be blunt rather than tiptoe around. “Had to.” She tried a small smile, but still felt Ron’s dislike as he walked away abruptly.   
Draco had poured two tall glasses of water for a change when Ron snuck up on him, “If you do anything to hurt her, I will hunt you down, Malfoy,” he snarled.  
“Calm down, Weasley,” Draco said irritably, his defenses rising immediately. “Potter’s already made the same threat. And as I’ve told him, I will tell you: I won’t hurt her. Now back off, Weaslebee!” pushing past him. Clearly there wasn’t going to be a friendship developing here. Draco left Ron seething and went back to hand Hermione her water. They were having a good time talking to George and Angelina, when Albus approached Hermione from the side and pulled her away a little bit speaking in hushed tones.  
“Hermione, do you remember Marianna?”   
Hermione looked past him at a beautiful young lady with hazel eyes and long unruly chocolate curls. Hermione’s eyes went wide and shot a look back at Albus, who was positively radiant.   
“Of course, I remember! Marianna! How are you?”  
“Hi Professor Granger,” Marianna said lively. She blushed a little when she said, “I’m quite well!”  
“That’s fantastic! Do I take it, you’re dating?” Hermione smiled.  
“We are,” Albus said proudly and kissed Marianna on the side of her hair, who nestled into him lovingly.  
“Ooh! I’m so excited for you! Being newly in love is wonderful, isn’t it?”  
“It sure is, Professor,” gushed Marianna.  
They chatted for a little while about their shared time at Hogwarts, Marianna being a former student of Hermione’s as well, a Slytherin, who had done very well academically and was now studying International Business and Muggle Relations at University. She’d even taken up Mandarin and seemed to be loving that as well. It was good to see Albus thriving so visibly, as he had been rather subdued at Hogwarts in the beginning, being the only one in the Potter family to have been sorted into Slytherin House. There’d also been a rough patch in his relationship with his father but had overcome that in time. He had done extremely well and both Harry and Ginny were very proud of his accomplishments.   
They came over now to join the three of them and were clearly quite pleased how Albus and Marianna seemed to be made for each other.   
Draco had also taken his place by Hermione’s side again, took her hand and soon steered her towards the Koi pond. “Let’s take a stroll, my Love.”  
“A stroll?” Hermione asked suspiciously. “Really?”  
“Yes. A stroll. I want to find a hidden spot and snog shamelessly.”  
“Do you now?”  
“Yes, I do,” he said taking her left arm and lifted it to his lips as they walked, placing tiny kisses up and down her scar.   
Hermione’s knees buckled and she hummed appreciatively, leaning her head against his shoulder. Thankfully, Draco held her tight, so her swooning went unnoticed by the others.  
Draco pretended to show Hermione the different types of Koi in the pond, while whispering sweet nothings into her ear, kissing the sensitive spot below her ear lobe and down her neck. Draco raised his eyes and caught Ron gawking at them from afar, fury in his stare. That only egged Draco on to turn Hermione around and kiss her boldly with everyone being able to witness his passion for her. He let his hands slide down the small of her back holding her close to him and Hermione raising her arms longingly around his neck, seductively returning his kiss. Draco released her only reluctantly and with a final, small peck on her full pink lips he pulled her away slowly. Holding her hand, he further pretended to admire the lovely landscape, but clearly looking for a more secluded spot.   
They found it when they had walked the entire perimeter of the Potter’s property, through the arched trellis covered in fragrant climbing roses, past the front of the house, around the garage to the side entrance of the shed. The door was luckily unlocked, and they snuck in unseen.   
As expected, the space was well kept up, tidy and clean. As soon as they entered the dark interior, Hermione spun around and kissed him with a burning desire. She could feel the heat rising in her, her scar tingling furiously and the tiny spot below her belly button already drove her close to ecstasy with anticipation.   
“We’ve got to be quiet,” she breathed into his mouth.  
“Let’s not worry about that now,” Draco smothered her words with more kisses down her neck finding the tiny button that held her dress together at the back of her neck and popped it open. The soft fabric slid down her slim frame, teasing her warm skin as it went and leaving her fully exposed, safe for a matching set of pale pink bra and thong.   
Hermione let out a small gasp and nestled herself into him, but Draco brought his hands up between them, creating a tiny distance so he could watch as he cupped her breasts, massaging and pinching her nipples playfully and earning lustful moans. Hermione bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet and dangerous game Draco was playing. With a practiced move he undid the front fastening of her racer-back bra and her boobs, finally released of their tight hold, came bouncing out, ready for more. He immediately obliged, going down on one knee, closing his lips around her left nipple, nibbling carefully at the very tip. Hermione could hardly stand it anymore, let out a quiet squeak, her whole body seemingly on fire. She’d have to have him, now! She raked her hands through his hair, moaning, as his kisses went down her belly and quickly spun her around, so he now faced her backside and with both hands pulled down the thong, leaving her entirely bare. He placed more kissing along her back and bit her warm cheek teasingly. She gasped again, and her excitement rose to new heights with a strong kick of adrenaline.   
She turned around, pulled him up and wrapped her arms around his neck kissing him wildly, pulling his lips with her teeth and whimpering “Draco… please…”  
“Yes,” he said huskily.  
He reached down between them again, undid his pants, kicked them aside along with his briefs and picked her up, moving them both towards a sturdy looking work bench. He sat her down on the very edge and looked down to watch as he entered her.   
“Bloody hell, Mione. Fuck, yes!” he hissed through clenched teeth, releasing a groan and then raised his eyes to watch her enjoy his ride.   
She held onto his neck and shoulders, while he guided her moves with his hands on her hips, growing ever more intense and fierce. Her moans and high-pitched squeals, she so desperately attempted to keep quiet, drove him wild and urged him on and on. He shagged her hard and fast, bringing them both close to their release within mere minutes.   
“Oh my God, Draco… Oh my God!” Hermione unsuccessfully tried to muffle a scream.   
Their skin so warm from the sun soon held a sheer film of sweat from the shed’s heat. Draco loved how she felt, so warm and needy against him. No need to cover up. The warmth enveloping them. He found her hand and wove his fingers with hers, bringing her scar to his lips and licking it with the tip of his tongue. His left hand supported her lower back strongly, moving with her rhythmically. He felt her break apart as she clenched and pulsed around his shaft and her legs wrapped even harder around his body in a powerful grip, pinning him to her tightly so every thrust found her spot perfectly and she felt the waves of her release wash over her, again and again. He followed her immediately not being able to hold it any longer, letting out a satisfied guttural groan and his breath catching as his own orgasm ebbed away slowly. He felt light-headed for a second, weak at the knees and leaned into her.   
Hermione giggled after a minute and kissed him softly, “That was fantastic, Draco!”  
“Christ,“ he said trying to catch his breath. “Yes, it was.”  
She performed a quick cleansing spell on them both and began to gather their clothes, handing him his briefs.   
They got dressed and Hermione smoothed over her face in a futile attempt to appear un-shagged.   
Still a bit unsteady on their feet, they paused on a bench sheltered by shrubs and trees to calm their racing heartbeats and sat holding each other for a little while.   
Hermione and Draco returned to the party, amidst curious glances and suspicious smiles. Safe for Ron, who kept up his bad mood and wasn’t afraid to show it.   
The party wound late into the evening, with a spectacular sunset to boot. Slowly the crowd began to disperse, eventually leaving only a handful of guests to linger around the firepit, lounging relaxed in the comfortable chairs or on the many soft outdoor cushions.   
Hermione thought she may have had one Margarita too many and felt a bit dizzy and quite frivolous giggling with Ginny and Angelina, never leaving Draco’s side. He in turn was merrily engulfed in discussions on Quidditch with Harry and George, along with Albus, Scorpius and Marianna all debating last weeks’ match.   
“I didn’t know you could be so relaxed, Father,” Scorpius said a later, when it had quieted down, everyone staring sleepily into the fire, the music softly playing in the background.  
“I didn’t know either to tell you the truth,” Draco replied. “I’m surprised myself.”  
“She’s good for you I think.”  
“I believe you’re right. She is,” he said and raised Hermione’s hand to his lips kissing her fingers, who smiled at him lovingly.  
Gradually, after many more moments by the cozy fire, everyone began to rise and without hurry, helped Ginny and Harry to clean up, before saying their good-byes and promising to visit again soon.


	13. Chapter 13

13  
“This was lovely, Draco” Hermione said as she kissed his scar goodnight and snuggled up closely to him.   
“It really was,” he said, kissing her hair.   
“I’m glad you get along with Harry.”  
“He’s easy to get along with. We’d seen each other a few times over the years.”  
“With Scorpius and Albus being friends, no wonder.“  
“It’s never been this relaxed, though. Must be you.”  
Hermione smiled to herself. “I’m glad you had a good time.” After a minute she added, “did Ron give you any more grief?”  
“Nah. He wouldn’t dare, I don’t think. He seems a bit… jealous to be honest.”  
“Jealous? No way. Not after all these years. He’s just protective.”  
“Protective. Right.” Draco kissed her shoulder and listened to her breathing slow, watching her fall asleep.  
They had returned to her flat shortly after midnight, went about their bathroom routine and gone to bed filled with contentment and happiness about new friendships made and old ones confirmed.   
Draco and Hermione woke to another beautifully sunny day in the Highlands.   
There was a knock on the door to Hermione’s flat, when they were having breakfast, which turned out to be Cho wondering if they’d join her in the gym for a few laps in the pool.   
They met up later, swam and on the way out found Neville in his usual place by the weights. Draco hadn’t seen him in some years and upon some initial reservations, but with Hermione’s reassurance, they soon chatted easily.   
“Seamus is going to be here next week,” Neville threw a telling look at Cho, whose eyes went wide. “We should get together!”  
“Cool, he helped me with Scorpius’ flat in London. Yeah, it’d be nice to see him again.” Draco told him. He looked inquiringly over to Hermione. “We’ve got no plans yet, have we?”  
“No, nothing so far.” Hermione smiled and caught Cho’s excited grin.   
The rest of the Sunday they spend visiting with Narcissa and Lucius at the Manor and Draco showing her his own house on the Estate. Quite a bit smaller than the Manor, but still much too large for Hermione’s taste, the home featured four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, and a Master Suite of such excess, that it made Hermione’s stomach turn. It was kept dark, in charcoal hues and chrome accents. The house-elves had removed all traces of Astoria though, which she was quite grateful for at this particular moment, as she surely would have vomited in the centre of the huge room. The tall windows were covered in opaque crisp white ceiling to floor curtains topped by heavy, nearly black, light-blocking curtain panels. There was nothing homey or cozy about this room. To Hermione it felt cold and unloved.   
“I haven’t been in here in ages,” Draco confessed quietly.   
“It doesn’t seem to suit you. Did you like it?”  
“I didn’t care, honestly. I only slept in here. Not for long time, though, now.”  
“Who decorated it?”  
“She did. Can’t you tell?” He was silent for a minute before saying, “She actually re-did it a few years back. Ripped out all of the old wood flooring, removed anything that had charm and warmth.”  
“What did you need all these bedrooms for? Were you planning on that many children?”  
“Well, initially, I thought it’d be nice for Scorpius to have siblings. But we soon didn’t share the same dreams anymore. Which was odd, looking back now. She used to want more children. After Scorpius, she was just – done. Never mentioned it either. She just didn’t get pregnant. And I guess I didn’t force the issue. Didn’t bother to ask. And then it quickly became just as well.”  
“Hm. Maybe something to do with her condition?”  
“You know? Come to think of it… that could be it,” he suggested.   
Obviously having enough of this, he resolutely took her hand and pulled her back down the large curved staircase. On the way he stopped by several fireplaces and unblocked the Floo Network passages to her place. He then led her into his study. A tall fireplace winged by two sets of French doors was the obvious focal point of the room. A dark cognac coloured Chesterfield Sofas stood facing the fireplace, with a long coffee table separating the two. In between the coffee table and the fireplace was enough room though to comfortably arrive at when travelling via the Floo Network.   
As Hermione looked around the room, an owl tapped its beak on one of the doors and Draco went to retrieve the letter it delivered. He undid the seal and read the content quietly. “She’s deteriorating,” he stated expressionlessly.  
Not knowing what to say, Hermione simply made a non-committal ‘hmm’ sound.   
Draco went over to his desk, wrote two notes on short parchments, summoned his owl and instructed him “One for Scorpius, one to Padma Patil” and his bird took off.   
“Padma needs to push up the date.”  
“Best to get it done, before it’s too late.”  
“Exactly.”

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

It was a bit over two weeks, when the divorce hearing took place in the courtrooms of the Ministry of Magic.   
Again, Draco found himself, walking down the dark tiled corridors of the lower levels, this time though, holding Hermione’s hand and Padma leading the way. They had awoken that morning with their scars behaving oddly. There wasn’t the usual tingling sensation, but rather an atypical low-key pulsing, which now, as they were walking behind Padma, began to downright throb and twitch, as if mirroring their nerves.   
“It’ll be fine,” Hermione reassured him, as he was clearly feeling the same thing. “No matter what. We’ll get through this. Together.”  
“Yeah,” he said, squeezing her hand and stealing a kiss, before stepping through the courtroom door. “Together.”  
And with that promise, their scars became notably calm, emanating peace and radiating nothing but love and tranquility. 

Narcissa and Lucius had already taken seats and Scorpius had saved one for Hermione at his side, which she found very touching and thanked him for it.   
Astoria was obviously not in attendance, but her team of solicitors was busy throwing everything they had at Padma, who expertly shot down all their attempts at discrediting Draco, and even Scorpius at one point.   
They were in luck, as the judge seemed of sound mind and apparently saw right through the evil game Astoria’s side was trying to play.   
In the end, Draco got away with a fairly small monthly allowance, compared to what he had initially expected. Padma was able to have that turned into a one-time payment, thus reducing the amount even further. Astoria was also ordered again, to not ever return to the Estate or come near a member of the Malfoy family, safe for Scorpius, who she was allowed to see, if her son so chose to. Draco also didn’t have to provide new lodgings for her, as there was an entire wing of Greengrass Manor unoccupied. She could well inhabit that, the judge concluded, after listening to all the details, reluctantly given by one of her counsellors.   
The whole thing was over within less than an hour. They had to stick around for some paperwork, but the relieve showed visibly on Draco’s face and Hermione was breathing easier as well. This really took a huge burden off her shoulders.   
They all, including Padma, went out to lunch to celebrate at one of London’s finest rooftop restaurants at the corner of Bishopsgate and Wormwood Street. (Duck & Waffle)  
They talked of many nonchalant things, until Narcissa and Lucius excused themselves, Narcissa clearly in need of rest. Scorpius followed them soon after, having to return to work. He bent down to sheepishly kiss Hermione’s hand, bro-hugged his father, bowed to and then embraced Padma in genuine gratitude.   
The topics became a bit more relaxed then and Hermione filled Padma in on the latest news of Hogwarts and their recent visit with Seamus.   
“Goodness, I haven’t seen Seamus in so long!” Padma said holding her glass of white wine in both hands, elbows on the table. “Or Neville for that matter. You lot clearly need to come down to London more often!”  
“Cho is quite smitten with him,” Hermione said. “With Seamus that is.”  
“She has been for a while, though. I don’t know what’s keeping her. She isn’t shy and he’s been eyeing her for quite some time, hasn’t he?”  
“I think he’s worried about his schedule, to be honest,” Draco offered.   
“But he did break up with that one girl. He’s got a bit of a reputation going…” Padma gossiped.   
“Like I said, he works his arse off, travels all the time, makes loads of money,” Draco defending him. “He’s probably worried no-one will want that for a husband, never being home. So he rather just dates casually I would think.”  
“This IS the magical world Draco. No excuses.” Hermione pointed out.  
“Well… maybe he’s just not that interested then.” Draco shrugged.  
“Ouch! Don’t be so harsh!” Padma said. “I think Cho should just go for it. Give it a try. See where it leads her.”  
“Maybe I’ll help her out a bit.” Hemione suggested. “We should indeed come down to London more often,” she said as her mind kicked into gear, forming a plan.   
Draco felt light as a feather, absentmindedly taking in the breathtaking view of the city. He sat back and simply was. He let the women talk, his hand resting on Hermione’s upper back, the back of her chair supporting his elbow, watching as clouds moved across the sky breaking up the sunlight every now and then. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Wednesday held the final meeting with Hogwart’s Headmaster Slughorn for Hermione and Draco. Their relationship had become public knowledge by now and Slughorn greeted them warmly and seemed to approve visibly, asking about future plans and a possible wedding date.   
“For now, we’re just too happy to spend every spare minute together and enjoy ourselves,” Hermione said and Draco agreed.   
“I just barely got my divorce through only yesterday, Sir,” he laughed, but took Hermione’s hand and kissed her fingers lovingly. “I think I will keep her, though!” Draco grinned broadly and Hermione nudged him saying “Hey!”  
“I am very pleased to hear it, Mr. Malfoy,” the headmaster announced cheerfully and padded Hermione’s cheek fatherly. “Well, why don’t you tell me what you’ve developed for us then.”  
Draco brought up his presentation, showing a map of the world, displaying it on the surface of the headmaster’s cleared desk. As Hermione had done in her initial presentation, all schools were connected by red lines, but then the images changed to allow for a deeper understanding of how the process would work. The schools would be linked via a magical screen, which each school would be outfitted with. So if say, Hogwarts wanted to connect to the Brazilian school of Castelobruxo during their International Studies class, they would dial in to Castelobruxo with a device similar to a muggle tablet, which when the connection was established an image of the others’ classroom would rise up, thus granting both parties the opportunity to interact freely as if merely communicating with each other through an open window.   
Hermione had arranged a test run with her friend at Mahoutokoro, the Japanese school. They asked the headmaster to do the honours and upon him pressing the button to open the connection, a beep sounded, every 3 seconds until the connection was created and the elderly teacher indeed appeared, greeting them happily and waving at Hermione.   
“Ha! Success!” Slughorn exclaimed excitedly and clapped his hands. “This is even better than I had expected!”   
They chatted for a little while and when they had cut the connection to Mahoutokoro, Draco then explained the process of outfitting all schools. His engineers would take care of that and it would take only a few days to have the whole thing up and running. After that the teachers of each school would receive a short training session, briefing them on the workings and its operations and handling.   
“When is this going to happen?” Slughorn asked expectantly.   
“We can start as early as next week,” Draco said. “I’m waiting on two of my engineers to finish up a project this week. I will owl you on Friday.”  
“Fantastic! I will await your owl then,” the headmaster beamed.  
Hermione and Draco left Slughorn’s office and made their way to her flat, coming across many students, who wanted a quick word with their professor, or at least pretended to, perhaps to simply see the infamous Draco Malfoy for themselves they suspected.   
Draco enjoyed roaming the castle, especially with Hermione by his side. He draped his arm around her shoulder and together they ambled along the ancient hallways and worn stairs. She in turn wrapped her arm around his waist, leaned into him, breathing him in.   
“Do you have to go back to the office?” she asked.   
“No. I don’t want to. Let’s just stay in, okay?”  
“Yeah, that sounds nice.” She sighed. “An early night.”  
He smiled and kissed her hair as the sunlight shining through the arches hit her perfectly, bringing out the gorgeous chocolate and auburn hues.   
“You’re so beautiful, my Love,” he whispered, curling her into him, cupping her face. “I can’t wait for the rest of our life together to begin.”  
“It’s already begun,” she answered lovingly, raising her lips to meet his.


	14. Chapter 14

14  
Astoria passed away that Friday.   
Scorpius had been sent word later in the morning and promptly informed his father as well as his grandparents. He then attended his mother’s funeral on Monday, who was laid to rest in the Greengrass Family Mausoleum on Greengrass Estate.   
He was surprisingly composed, yet quiet, as he now sat across from them in one of the comfortable cushioned chairs on Hermione’s patio in the early evening hours of Monday. Hermione had poured three glasses of Whisky, which they drank from slowly, simply being in each other’s company. No unnecessary or forced conversation invaded the peacefulness of the wind and the rustling of the leaves from the castle grounds and the Forbidden Forest.   
Hermione had brought out a blanket, pulled up her legs and wrapped herself snuggly in it, stretching her face into the sun. She had secretly started looking at wedding dresses, checked with different locations for available dates for next spring and immaturely juvenile practiced scrawling Malfoy on pieces of parchment in class, while her students were busy with assignments. She would have loved to start planning officially but didn’t want to push Draco. Cho was certainly waiting in the wings to get started. Hermione would wait patiently.   
Draco watched his son stare into nothingness, occasionally sipping his Whisky. He’d felt nothing at the news of Astoria’s passing. Although, that wasn’t quite true. He did feel a sense of relieve. And compassion for Scorpius. He pulled Hermione closer to him, her head on his shoulder now, the blanket spilling over his thigh and her scent rising up to him. He loved her so much. Everything about her. Her warmth, her manners, her feistiness, her energy. She matched him and challenged him in ways he hadn’t expected. He adored her wit and intellect, which he had of course known from school, but now he knew to appreciate it.   
He’d secretly made plans for them to spend a few days in Antwerp, Europe’s Diamond capital, where he planned to choose rings with her. The thought of surprising her with the proposal and a weekend away brought on a surge of adrenaline coursing his veins and he murmured a I love you into her ear.   
She smiled and turned her head up to kiss him. The scent of his cologne with its masculine base notes of cedar, leather, tobacco and patchouli mingled with the strong aroma of the Scottish Whisky created an alluring combo and instinctively she reached down to touch his scar, which came to life and shimmered lightly when she touched it. It wasn’t intended as a ‘call to mate immediately’ but was supposed to simply serve as a reminder of things to come when it was time to retire later on.   
Draco though felt her touch shoot immediately into his groin, an erection forming fast and rock-hard. He gulped down his whisky, slammed the glass on the table and startled both Hermione and Scorpius out of their tranquility.   
“Oh my, look at the time!” Draco announced surprisingly, earning a confused look from Scorpius.  
“I guess…” the latter said, checking his watch.  
“I just remembered I’ve got to get some things done,” Draco improvised.   
“Uh, ok.” Scorpius replied lamely.  
“Do you?” Hermione chimed in.  
“Yes.” Draco stated. “I do.”  
“Well, alright, I’ll be off then.”  
“There’s no rush, Scorpius,” Hermione tried to reason. “I’m quite sure you can finish your drink in peace.”  
“Actually,” Draco said firmly, “we’ve got that thing, Mione.”   
“What thing?”  
“You know? What we talked about earlier.” Draco grew impatient and rather agitated.  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
“That thing we got.”  
“What?” Looking at him questioningly, Hermione herself was starting to get irritated. “What are you on about?” But then it dawned on her, simply because Draco wasn’t moving from his seat. “Oh!” She gasped. “Oh my!”  
“Yes.” Draco turned to address Scorpius. “I’m sorry, mate. We’ve got to cut this short.”  
“No worries. My apologies for keeping you so long, I suppose.” He scuffed, draining the last remains of his Whisky and got up to leave. Draco didn’t get up, but received his sons’ embrace from his seated position. “You’re acting weird.” Scorpius said.   
“I’m sorry, mate. It’s urgent business. I’ll explain later.”  
“Business you can’t discuss with me?”  
“Not that kind of business, I’m afraid,” Draco said, and Hermione blushed deeply, turning away, so hopefully Scorpius wouldn’t see. But he did. And understood immediately.  
“Good night, Father. I love you.” Turning to Hermione Scorpius grinned broadly and winked at her. “Enjoy the ride…” he whispered.  
Hermione giggled and covered her mouth with her hands, but then went on her tip toes to hug him goodbye.   
“We’ll see you soon, Love, alright?” she said, kissing his cheek.  
“Yes, very soon. I promise.”  
“I love you,” Draco said and watched his son disappear inside Hermione’s flat and soon heard the roar of the fireplace.   
“What is wrong with you?” Hermione chided turning back towards Draco.   
Draco had come inside, closed the double French doors and pulled the sheer curtains shut. He was already halfway undressed.   
“Will you look at me?” he demanded pointing with both hands at his crotch.   
Hermione gaped at his huge erection, her eyes going wide. “Draco! What happened?”  
“You happened, Hermione!” He pulled off his socks in frustration. “Get in bed!” he called angrily.  
“Get in bed? Are you serious?”  
“Hermione…” he clenched his teeth and hissed “not now. Please. Just get in bed.”  
She crossed the room and started undoing her trousers, a chill of excitement suddenly grabbing hold of her and she began to tremble. Draco came up to her, pushed his hand into her hair and pulled her lips towards his. His lips were hard with need, but Hermione immediately responded parting hers and teased him with her tongue, then biting his bottom lip and pulling. “You better make this a bloody good one, Malfoy,” she said sharply.  
“You know nothing yet, Granger!” he threatened and pulled her shirt over her head, unhooked her bra roughly and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. Hermione gasped at the sudden pain but squealed in delight at the same time.   
“Now,” he growled tearing her undies down. “Get. In. Bed.”   
“Yes, Sir.” She saluted and crawled quickly under the covers. But Draco was quicker, caught her by the ankles at the last second and forcefully pulled her back, so she landed flat on her belly. He smacked her bottom, spread her legs with both hands and she shrieked out in surprise. Instinctively she wanted to pull her knees up, offering herself to him seductively but he pushed her down and she heard Draco suck in a breath.   
“Bloody. Hell. Yes, just like that…” stepping closer to the edge of the bed, between her legs, he put his hand on her lower back, keeping her in place, and holding himself in perfect position, finally buried all of him inside her. He groaned noisily and then began to move, giving her a right good seeing to.   
Although she had decided that this was clearly going to be for him, she was surprised of her own readiness to receive him, of her own lust and need for him. He moved in and out of her with slick ease and immediately found that ideal angle, shagging her into oblivion. Christ, she enjoyed this new level of roughness and urge, so she bent her knees to bring her feet behind his lower buttocks, which restricted his movements and allowed for more close contact. This felt so bloody good, she moaned loudly with every hard thrust, his rock-hard erection hitting her perfectly. Holding him tightly in her, clenching her muscles around him consciously, she was pushed against the mattress so deliciously and at such short intervals that she soon felt the tingling warmth creeping closer and closer. Her high-pitched screeches became even more excited, her hands grabbing fistfuls of sheets and him pounding on and on, fiercer and more violent by the thrust that she came so hard, she felt it in her toes and bit the sheets muffling her scream.   
“Oh my God!” Hermione’s breaths caught in her throat. The waves of her climax didn’t seem to want to let up and she still felt the throbbing when he slowed down and pulled out. He climbed into bed with her, spun her over on her back, pinned her legs against his chest, her ankles by his ears. He slowly entered her, hot and still ready, but then he took a minute to free her neck from their pillow of curls, lowered himself onto his forearms and took hold of the back of her neck. Then he began to gently move again, bent down to kiss her passionately before releasing her lips softly. He gradually built momentum, going back in for more kisses often, just so he could vigorously shag her once more. A drop of sweat ran down his nose and dripped onto her as he grunted and squeezed his eyes shut only for them to fly open a second later and with a final thrust he let out a low drawn-out groan, his shaft throbbing and pumping hot seed into her. Draco leaned his forehead to hers, kissed her again and calmed his breath for a second before pulling out, then huffed and fell face first onto the bed next to her.   
Hermione’s mind was racing, full of questions, yet was at a loss for words, so she remained silent and simply let him wrap her into a snug embrace, spooning into her. He kissed her hair and she smiled contently, closing her eyes, sleep coming over them both easily tonight.

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

The weeks passed peacefully, they often saw Scorpius, who became increasingly relaxed and comfortable being independent, allowed to make decisions for himself, without fearing to meet his mothers’ disapproval or wrath for that matter.   
When Hermione alohamora’ed the door to her flat one Friday afternoon after classes had been dismissed and she’d made a quick stop by her office, she found Draco already rummaging around in the bedroom.   
“You’re early,” she said happily, tossing her robe over the side of the couch, along with the books she’d brought, which toppled to the floor and she rushed into his arms to kiss him hello. She wrapped her arms around his neck, went on her tip toes to kiss him more deeply, parting her lips and welcoming the tip of his tongue. “Hello, Gorgeous,” she whispered, smiling.   
“Hello, my Love,” he replied, smiling back, but took her face in his hands, thus creating a bit of distance between them, pecked her lips one last time and said, “we’ve got to hurry a bit, Darling.” He winked and smiled mischievously.  
“What are we hurrying for?” Hermione’s brows furrowing, having expected a quiet evening, now looking around in confusion.   
“You’ll see,” he answered. “Which ones? The dark blue or black?” he asked, holding up two pairs of skinny jeans. “I’ve already got your maroon dress packed,” he said.   
“What? What for? What are you doing? Where are we going? What is going on?”  
“You’ll see,” he smiled.  
“Well, I can’t decide on what to wear if you won’t tell me what we’re doing.”  
“The black ones then,” he chose and grinned. “Works for me, as well.”   
“Draco!” she called. “What’s going on?”  
Draco turned to face her after having returned her dark blue jeans to the wardrobe with a wave of his wand and grinned broadly again, kissing her lips softly. “A surprise!”  
“Obviously!” she stated.  
Hermione looked over the contents of his work. “Alright, I will make some assumptions then. It’s Friday, not yet half past four. We’ll need to pack for tonight’s dinner, but I will change and that’ll take care of that.”   
“Good idea,” he answered.  
“Tomorrow is Saturday, you’ll have something planned, which jeans are appropriate for. So that outfit’s fine,” she mused, pointing at his selection. “The dress for tomorrow night’s dinner. Matching shoes… and you even thought of my nylons!” she beamed and kissed him lovingly.   
“I tried…” he began. “This is harder than in looks! I’ve been working on this for half an hour already!”  
“I love you Draco!” she burst out.  
“And I love you, Hermione Jean Granger.”  
“Are you still not telling me where we’re going?”  
“No. Not yet. It’ll be a true surprise.”   
They quickly packed the rest, Hermione changed, pulled her hair into a messy bun, refreshed her make-up, donned comfortable ballerinas and did a quick round of her flat to prepare for a weekend away.   
Draco then grabbed their bag, took her hand and they disapparated to a small roof top terrace in Antwerp in brilliant sunshine.  
“Oh wow!” Hermione gasped when she looked around. “Where are we? I don’t recognize this place. It’s not Paris.”  
As their hotel was located in the old part of the city, the building was just three stories tall, plus the roof top room, so their view was that of other old roofs and a church nearby. They couldn’t overlook the city from here, which was just as well, because the terrace was a spectacle in itself. It was richly planted with fragrant night-blooming jasmine and other leafy foliage, many pots with neatly trimmed boxwood of varying sizes set in groups, while smaller pots with clean white mini petunias were placed in between. A huge pot with a large bird-of-paradise plant sat off to the side in a sunny spot by an open floor-to-ceiling metal framed glass door. Two comfortable lounge chairs with a low table completed the terrace.   
“This is amazing, Draco! Gosh, and it smells so good!”  
“I thought you might like this…” he said with a relieved smile.   
“Is this all ours?” Hermione asked as she turned to explore more.   
“Yes, all yours and mine for two days,” Draco beamed. He’d been contemplating the step he was about to take with Hermione for a little while now. And very carefully, mind you. To others watching on it might surely seem hurried, he reckoned; too early to tell, not enough time spent together to make such a decision. He could practically hear the gossip. But he was sure. 150% certain. This was it. She was it. She was his Love. His life. She was everything.   
Draco brought her hand he’d held this entire time woven in his, to his mouth and kissed it. She turned to look at him and smiled her gorgeous smile, her eyes warm and full of love, the freckles on her nose dancing in the afternoon sun.   
She brought both hands to her cheeks and giggled excitedly, making a girlish ‘eeek’ sound.   
His smile broadened as he placed his hand on her lower back to guide her inside and she stepped through the open door into a large bedroom loft.   
Exposed beams of ancient wood accentuated the room and gave it an extraordinary atmosphere while the contemporary, yet lush furniture and crisp linen harmonized beautifully.   
A cozy sitting room with a lavish sofa, and many throw pillows adorning it, was placed against the wall, facing a large wall-mounted TV. The coffee table held fresh fruit, a bottle of Champagne in a glass cooler full of ice and two delicate champagne coupes on an equally champagne-coloured tray.   
A large, made for two, modern stand-alone tub stood in front of a metal-framed wall of windows of the sleek and contemporary bathroom. The view was of the terrace and the old church steeple beyond, from an angle, she hadn’t noticed earlier. She also hadn’t noticed a hidden outdoor hot tub protected by a pergola covered in flowering Clematis Montana ‘Tetrarose’, which she recognized from her mother’s garden. Its dogwood-like pale pink flowers with tufts of yellow in its middle smothered the vigorously thriving clematis and Hermione gasped upon seeing these, turned on her heels, forgetting all about the luxurious bathroom and went back outside.   
“Draco!” she called. “Come look!”  
She discovered the semi hidden entrance to the secluded spot just passed the enormous bird-of-paradise plant. Draco had followed her back outside and found her with her nose deep in one Clematis bloom, inhaling greatly. Clearly the hot tub wasn’t the focal point here, holding no appeal to her whatsoever.  
“Yes, my Love. Don’t they smell lovely?” Gesturing towards the hot tub he said, “Have you seen, this?!”  
Hermione looked up, nonplussed. “Oh, yeah. I saw,” bringing her nose back to the flowers.  
This was brilliant. Hermione loved everything about this little surprise, even though they’d only just got here. She strolled about the terrace for a little while longer, smelling the flowers, enjoying the sunshine and eventually settled into the other cushioned chair next to Draco.   
“I love this!” she exclaimed. “What’s the occasion?”   
“Oh, nothing,” evading her question expertly he thought. “Just because I love you,” waving it off with a dismissive gesture. He then changed the subject quickly as so hopefully she wouldn’t notice. “Would you like to join me for a little walk?”  
“You’re up to something…”  
“What?” He asked in mock outrage. “Me? Not at all!”  
“Yeah, okay…” she harrumphed and sidled deeper into the chair. “Give me a few minutes.”  
“A few,” he smiled.  
They sat quietly in the sun for a little while, both having donned their sunglasses, listening to low city noises drifting up to their own private roof top garden.   
“Come on,” Draco said after a moment, pulling her up along with him. “I want to show you something.”  
Hermione pushed her sunglasses into her hair when she entered the bedroom to grab her cardigan off the bed before being dragged out by Draco’s outstretched arm.   
They walked down the streets of a city Hermione didn’t know. Draco had draped his arm around her shoulder, while she held him around the waist, strolling casually and chatting happily.   
“Are you going to tell me where we are?” Hermione asked. She knew they must either be in Belgium or the Netherlands, judging by the Dutch language displayed everywhere.  
“Not just yet,” he smirked and kissed her hair.   
However, when they walked along ever more increasing numbers of jewelers and Diamond traitors, Hermione spun around to face him. “Draco? Is this Antwerp?”  
He smiled mischievously and tapped her nose. “Yes, it is,” was all he said.  
“What are we doing here?” she asked, grinning, clearly overjoyed, but pretending to be furious.  
“You’re the brightest witch of your age. You can surely figure it out, can’t you? What does it look like?”  
She gasped and brought both hands over her mouth, her eyes going wide. With a shriek of pure pleasure, she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, landed in his arms and planted a hard kiss on his lips. She wrapped her legs around him in the middle of the sidewalk with people passing and looking on, giving them odd stares, but some obviously understood what had just happened and smiled with them. Draco held her up by her buttocks, softened his lips and kissed her lovingly.   
“I love you so much Hermione,” he said in between kisses. “I don’t ever want to be without you.”  
“And I love you, Draco.” She replied and bent down to kiss him once more. “Are we going to look at rings?”  
“We are,” he said, setting her down and taking her hand. “We’ve got an appointment at Orsini Diamonds at half past five.”   
“Ooooh! How exciting,” she exclaimed, skipping and pulling him along this time.   
“I see you approve of my idea,” he commented as they were about to enter the jeweler at the corner of Appelmannstraat and De Keyserlei.   
“I do! I do!” Hermione said pushing open the door into an exquisitely quiet interior with brightly lit showcases glittering with jewels of any kind. Black cabins, furniture and light fixtures, black walls and ceiling drew one’s attention expertly to the champagne coloured displays.   
They were welcomed by an older gentleman, dresses impeccably in a three-piece navy-blue tweet suit, crisp white shirt and matching tie. Although they immediately recognized him as a wizard.   
“Welcome to Orsini’s,” he said with a friendly smile and extended a hand to Hermione first, then greeted Draco. “You must be Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger. I am Monsieur Durass.” he stated courteously with a lovely Flemish accent.  
“We are,” Draco said. “Nice to meet you.”   
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Durass,” Hermione said smiling nervously and felt her scar responding accordingly.   
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, of course!” he said warmly as he guided them to a table in one corner of the shop.   
They chatted a bit about the wizarding world, Hogwarts and his own school of Beauxbâtons. Soon a handsome young man appeared, who was introduced as Mr. Orsini’s grandson and were offered refreshments, a lovely aromatic Earl Grey tea, along with tiny bite-sized shortbread rounds. Both Hermione and Draco gratefully accepted, and the teas were poured into paper-thin delicate teacups with gold rims.   
Their consultation itself began with questions about their relationship and how it had formed. Preferences in colour, as in clothes and interior design were next. Although it seemed odd at first, it made sense, Hermione soon thought. How else would he be able to select rings that would suit them forever?   
Then Monsieur Durass, excused himself, drew out his own wand and opened different displays and drawers with a soft motion of a near full turn and a straight line down. Alohomora. He picked through them and even disappeared into the backroom for a moment, only to emerge with three black velvet trays, his choice of rings professionally placed upon them for optimal view.   
The Diamonds glittered and sparkled and literally took Hermione’s breath away.   
They were both measured for perfect sizes, tried on and compared, turned the rings back and forth to see them shine, then matched Hermione’s band to suit Draco’s.   
It was nearly seven when they seemed to have at least narrowed down their selection. Draco was getting hungry, Hermione could tell, and they made an appointment to meet again the following day to make their final decision. Best to sleep over such an important and lasting choice they all agreed. They bid Monsieur Durass good-bye and stepped from the cool, air conditioned and dark interior into the bright and warm sunshine of Antwerp.


	15. Chapter 15

15  
There was a Five Guys Burger Restaurant not too far from Orsini’s corner shop, which they stumbled upon on their way back to the hotel.   
They had been quiet at first, letting the experience sink in as they walked, holding hands. But when they were lucky enough to find a recently vacated table under a tree outside on the wide sidewalk, they sat their trays down, unwrapped their burgers and took deep drags of their cokes, the only topic was of the sparkle and beauty of the diamonds.   
Soon Hermione delicately put the last small bite of her burger into her mouth, then wiped her hands and looked around the still bustling pavement of Antwerp’s Diamond District. Draco had turned his face into the warm sun.   
Her thoughts drifted as she picked up her cup and held it with both hands in mid-air, watching passers-by that were chatting happily, laden with shopping bags. She sat back and it suddenly hit her what they were doing here. It felt like a dream, yet new fears surfaced stubbornly. Fears of ‘too fast’, ‘head over heels’, ‘fools rushing in’. It had, after all, only been a few months. She noticed her scar stinging annoyingly but then swallowed the knot that had quickly formed and turned to Draco.  
“This is crazy, isn’t it?”  
“Hm?” he sounded dreamily, content.  
“Us. Here. Doing this.”  
“What are you on about?” He squinted at her through one lazily opened eye, then feeling a nervous throbbing in his scar.  
“Well…” she cleared her throat, “uhm… are you sure?”  
“Am I sure?” he sat up curiously, rubbed away the tingling, pushed his sunglasses up and looked at her with a serious expression. “What’s this about, Hermione? What’s going on?”  
“It’s just… so fast,” she dropped her gaze, feeling silly all of a sudden. “Never mind,” she waved a hand in a dismissive gesture and rubbed her own forearm. “It’s nothing.” She looked away, but Draco wasn’t having it.   
“No no, Love. Don’t you never mind me. Spit it out.”  
She didn’t answer right away, looking for words, an explanation as to what that feeling deep down inside her really was. “I know it’s right. That much I know. I don’t have doubts. It’s not that…” she broke off, still struggling. “I guess, I worry about what others might say.”  
“Really?”  
An embarrassed laugh escaped her after a moment. “Now that I’ve actually voiced it and heard myself say it, I realize it really is stupid, isn’t it?!”  
Draco leaned forward and took her hand, kissed her palm and placed it against the side of his face, holding it there. “We’re doing the right thing. I love you. You love me. Nothing else matters.”  
She smiled, a wonderful warmth spreading through her, “Nothing else matters.”  
Draco pulled his chair around to sit by her side, the sun now warming their backs. They held hands, fingers interwoven and the stinging and throbbing subsided. They sat for a little while longer, chatting, people watching, trying to distinguish wizards from muggles.   
It took them a little longer to return to the hotel, taking a detour through a park on the way, but they found the cozy roof top room waiting for them.  
“Catch!” Draco called to Hermione, who had spun around quickly as she was passing the bed and just in time caught her black bikini top, the bottom having slipped her grasp.   
“You brought my bikini?” Hermione said stunned. “How’d you even find it?”  
“Accio, Love,” he grinned and shouted, “Off to the hot tub!” excitedly, undressing quickly and donning his own swimming trunks, while Hermione still watched him in amazement.   
“You thought of everything!” She cried and came back around the bed, dropped her bikini, grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him passionately. Her hands wove into his hair and he responded immediately, holding her in a tight embrace, pressing her into him completely.   
He backed her to the edge of the bed and toppled them over to fall on the plush duvet. Hermione giggled as he pushed her top up her warm body to expose her lacey bra, then snapped open the front closure as she gasped a satisfied “YES!”.   
He nibbled her pink nipples softly, she moaned and urgently went to work on the button of her jeans and pushed them down her legs, taking the panties with them. She kicked off her ballerina flats along with her pants and quickly busied herself with the tie of his shorts. He had already grown considerably, becoming harder by the second, her touch, her moans and the need in her eyes driving him positively insane. He needed to be in her, his own need to unite with her, feel her heat around him, made him tear off her top and toss it across the room, her bra following at lightning speed, hissing something unintelligible. His hands ran down the sides of her body and settled at her midriff, arching her back and positioned her perfectly against him as he kneeled between her legs. Draco grabbed hold of himself and dragged the tip up and down her folds, then easing carefully in, he closed his eyes, groaning.   
Hermione let out a squeak of satisfaction and began to move with him. He held her hips and watched her, her arms above her head, stretching her beautiful body for him and he relished at the sight. He grew wilder, wanting to watch her pant and writhe with pleasure and want, knowing by now what made her lose her mind. She locked her legs behind him to keep him in place, to maximize the force of his thrusts and control the impact, urgently needing to release, wanting more and more and him obeying her every need. They climaxed quickly, him following her almost immediately, both of them panting and Hermione grinning happily.   
She rose to shower off swiftly, then put on her bikini with Draco still looking on from the bed and stepped onto the roof top terrace in search of the hot tub.  
“Come on, Love!” she called over her shoulder and skipped joyfully out of sight.   
“Jeez, woman, no rest for the wary…” he muttered with a grin and made to join her.   
Hermione, careful not to slip, climbed in just as Draco rounded the corner and stepped in behind her. They sat, Draco’s arm curled around Hermione’s shoulder, watching the sky become darker, soon turning indigo, then black and the stars twinkling brighter. A soft, fragrant breeze swept across the terrace, along with fading city noises and a peaceful bliss. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Their appointment next morning was over with rather fast. They had decided on their rings last night, while they had sat curled into each other in the softly bubbling hot tub.   
Hermione had chosen an Eternity Ring for her engagement ring, fully set in an elegant 2mm wide band. Fully set meant it had small diamonds of 0,60-carat VVS top quality and spectacular brilliance all around the thin band, shining and glittering gorgeously.   
Hermione’s ring was a perfect match to accompany and embrace the Double Flat Wedding Band Draco had chosen for them both. The rounded edges made sure to remain comfortable for eternity, Mr. Durass assured them. They’d decided on 18-carat platinum, Draco’s being a wider 4mm band, while Hermione’s was again 2mm. The combination of the two rings looked absolutely stunning on her long slim fingers. Understated elegance, just as they liked it.   
With a wave of his wand, Mr. Durass did a final polishing, before they were placed magically in two small, black velvet boxes and securely boxed up, side by side, before being placed in an elegant bag. Mr. Durass sealed the bag with a touch of the tip of his wand, thus making it theft-proof as well. He had also placed a small tutorial booklet of diamond care with spells and wand movements inside the bag, but nonetheless invited them to return, if ever they felt help was needed.   
Draco paid the nearly 700 Galleons, while Hermione stood next to him, clutching the bag in both hands.   
They bid Mr. Durass farewell and he showed them to a spot in a far corner, from which they disapparated to the roof top terrace of their secluded get-away.   
As soon as they landed, Draco took the bag and opened it with his wand, undoing the security incantations. He then proceeded to drop to one knee, after he had fished out the box, which held Hermione’s single engagement ring. He felt Hermione’s heartbeat rise in his scar, which came to life, like liquid gold, titillating in his veins.   
“You really don’t have to do this, Draco,” Hermione gasped, feeling her own mark tingle. As she stood in the brilliant sunshine, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of jasmine, clematis and foliage, her cheeks flushed with warmth, but probably just excitement.   
“No, I do,” he stammered eagerly, although nervous. Draco cleared his throat and took her hand. He looked up at her, the sun hitting her features so beautifully, he could hardly believe his luck.   
“Hermione,” he began. “I love you so much.” He swallowed, collecting his thoughts. “I’ve wanted to tell you so much, but it’s all gone now.” He paused. “I should’ve written it down. Forgive me, my Love,” he kissed her hand.   
Hermione bend down and kissed his lips tenderly, “There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered.  
“You are everything to me,” he started again. “You are my world. I don’t ever want to be without you again. I want to face all of life’s challenges with you. You and I. Hermione and Draco.” He let go of her hand to open the small box and held it out for her to see the ring, as it sparkled alluringly in the sunlight. “Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?” he croaked.   
Hermione let out a tiny sob and her lips tightened in a straight line, tears stinging in her eyes. “Draco,” she began, sobbed, tears streaming down her face now. “Yes! Of course, YES!” she called out. “Yes, I will marry you,” she said as Draco rose, picked her up and kissed her, the box still clutched in his hand. “You are everything to me. You are my sun, my moon and all my stars.” She dipped her head to find his lips again and he set her down to cup her cheek in the one hand, kissing her softly.   
When they broke, she took the box, carefully removed the ring and placed it on her right ring finger, adoring its beauty and sparkle. She eeked excitedly and went again to kiss Draco deeply.  
“You know,” Draco said, when he took her hand to move the ring back and forth in the light, “I have heard that phrase before. About the sun and moon and all the stars…”  
“Oh,” Hermione said and blushed. “It’s from a muggle TV program,” pulling her lips into a wide grin. “I’ve always wanted to tell you this,” she smiled and pecked a kiss on his lips.   
“It was perfect,” he said.

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

The rest of the day they spend exploring the city, ending it by celebrating their engagement at a roof top oasis, a cocktail beach bar that was more of a bohemian garden, where they enjoyed the sunset to upbeat summer tunes. The BBQ and finger food the place offered was outstandingly delicious and the cocktails so quaffable, that Hermione soon felt giggly and frolicked, quite to Draco’s pleasure. They danced and kissed and sat in snug embraces, watching the stars sparkle in the night sky.   
At one point they began a casual conversation with a neighbouring group, who were buskers, as it turned out. Draco asked if he could try to strum on one of their acoustic guitars, the musicians had brought along. He was rusty, but toyed with it for a little while, clearly enjoying an old and long-lost passion he’d forgotten about.   
Hermione sat and watched him, never having seen him like this, so free and happy, his eyes bright, with a big smile on his face as he talked to the youths and clinked bottles of Mexican beer with them. She made a mental note to look for a guitar as a slightly belated engagement gift for him.  
They made slow love when they returned to their quiet room and had a nice lie in on Sunday.   
Hermione wondered why Draco had packed her dress, but chose to wear it, transfiguring the high heels, that were meant to go with it to a comfortable pair of airy ballerinas. Their plan was to visit The Rubens House and the Royal Museum of Fine Arts. It was a hot day and they were both glad to spend it indoors, away from the burning heat.   
At last they packed their one bag and tidied their room with swift movements of their wands and could hardly wait to get back to England to do show-and-tells for their families and friends.


	16. Chapter 16

16  
The next months passed in a blur of excited and sometimes frantic wedding planning. Hermione had seen a beautiful vintage tea-length dress in a magazine, found a dressmaker to have it tailored and took Ginny and Cho along for the first fitting. They both clapped their hands over their mouths as Hermione stepped out of the dressing room to show off the breathtaking dress she had chosen.   
A pale, pearl pink dream of Satin, sleeveless, with a contemporary Bateau neckline and an A-line midi skirt, which hit just below the knees. A thin Satin belt completed the dress. No frills, no lace, just understated elegance.   
Best of all Hermione felt, was that she had insisted on incorporating pockets into the dress. It made it even more perfect! She knew she was going to require a handkerchief, emotional as she was at times. The thought of having to hold it in her hand or even carry a clutch all day was out of the question.   
The length of the dress exposed her beautifully shaped calves, granting her the opportunity to wear glittering, pearl pink, 3-inch strappy Dress Sandals.   
She was contemplating wearing a soft petticoat underneath, and discussed the option with Ginny and Cho, trying on different densities and tulle layers, making the skirt either stand out dramatically, which they laughed at, or simply swaying softly as she walked, which they all loved. And so she chose the latter. Hermione couldn’t wait to wear it, couldn’t wait for Draco to see her wearing it.

The seasons at Hogwarts changed from a rainy and quite chilly autumn, to a harshly cold winter, with loads of snow, which Hermione loved, and Draco disliked.   
Spring brought on the last preparations like seating arrangements and final fittings for her dress and his 3-piece fitted charcoal suit, which sported a pearl pink coloured bow tie, fashioned from the same Satin as Hermione’s dress.   
Draco and Hermione had chosen a historic castle in the western part of Cairngorms National Park in the Scottish Highlands. The cosy castle and cottages were set in beautiful unspoiled woodsy surroundings and sloping green hills. It belonged to an old Wizard family, who had happily arranged everything for them, from a spectacular menu to the flowers in the castle’s chapel to the breakfast the day after and everything in between.   
Harry and Ginny would be the couple’s best man and maid of honour. Choosing Harry hadn’t even been Hermione’s idea. Draco had simply gone to find him in his office one day, late in the afternoon and straight out asked him, without any heads-up or warning.   
“Draco, good to see you,” Harry said, coming around his desk to shake Draco’s hand.  
“Yeah, good to see you, too,” he replied, taking his hand in a firm grip. “I have quite a favour to ask,” Draco blurted out immediately.  
“Okay,” Harry said, gesturing towards a chair opposite his desk. “Have a seat.”  
Draco sat. “I want you to be my best man.”  
Harry stared. Then, still standing, as he’d only just reached his own chair, looked around mockingly, as if there was anyone else in the office, Draco could possibly refer to. “Me?” he asked, pointing at himself.  
“Yup.”  
“Why?”  
“Well, for starters, it would reflect my sincerity. I know we’re not tight – yet. But I feel I couldn’t trust the job to anyone else. Plus, it would quite please Hermione, I’m sure.”  
“Uuuh…” Harry stammered flabbergasted. “You caught me off guard, mate, to be honest.” He rubbed his face with both hands and combed his fingers through his hair, resting his hands at the back of his head. “I’ll do it.” Harry said after a minute.  
“Fantastic!” Draco announced, jumped up to shake Harry’s hand once more across the desk and sat down again. “Mind if we quickly talk this through?” he added.   
“Sure,” Harry grinned, pulled out his wand and conjured up two bottles of beer. They popped off the tops and took deep drags.   
A couple of bottles of beer later, they arranged to meet up at the castle the following weekend for some hands-on preparations.   
Draco felt good about the decision. He had considered asking Blaise Zabini, but quickly dismissed that notion, after about a second and a half. Especially when having had one drink too many, Blaise often reverted back to his old arrogant manners and pure-blood prejudices, which had annoyed Draco for many years now. When his marriage to Astoria had started to crumble, so did many friendships. Blaise was one of the few that had remained, yet the honour of best man, was surely not one Blaise should hold. An invitation to the wedding was honour enough.   
Draco returned to the flat at Hogwarts, which they now regarded as their flat, and told Hermione the good news.   
“I’ve asked Harry,” Draco said as Hermione handed him a cup of tea and sat down on the couch reaching for some rolls of parchment, she still had to grade for tomorrows class.   
“Asked Harry, what, Love,” she said not looking at him, but blowing into her cup, picking up a particularly small parchment.   
“To be my best man.”  
Hermione’s eyes shot up to meet his and nearly dropped her cup. “Draco!” she called out and set the cup down on the table. “I’m so happy!” She jumped out of her seat, the parchment forgotten and falling to the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“I’m telling you now,” he grinned. “I wanted it to be a surprise. You know, just in case.”  
“I take it, he said yes, then?”  
“He did.”  
“That’s brilliant!” Her arms flew up in the air, dancing, as she came round the coffee table and Draco got out of his own seat to wrap her in a tight embrace.   
“Thank you,” she said quietly into his lips when he bent down to kiss her.   
“Anything for you, my Love.”

And so, the weeks past until finally the first weekend of May arrived sunny and warm. Which was quite lucky, and had Hermione worried for quite a while there, for the rain hadn’t wanted to stop at all in April.   
With every passing week creeping closer to the wedding date, Hermione’s scar went in waves from a calm fluidity to frantic swirls, clearly displaying her mental state. Sometimes calm and collected, then stressing nervously over the tiniest details.   
Draco tried to reassure her, that everything was taken care of, and she needn’t worry, but it seemed his words didn’t register with her. All he could do, and did, was make slow, sometimes frantically passionate Love to her. It helped, but clearly had to be repeated therapeutically as frequently as possible, he found.   
Draco had brought up the dress and his own suit the day before, so today all they had to do today was pack the rest of their things to take along for their extended wedding weekend at the castle.   
It still took them (mostly Hermione, with Draco simply looking on, amused) nearly three hours to finish. Draco had become excellent at making tea the muggle way and had provided these often and without prior request. Hermione adored his attentiveness, how he always seemed to know how she felt and knew what would calm her. Of course, she also knew it was the connection of their scars; still – she knew she had found the right partner in Draco and they seemed to grow closer and more connected every day.   
By lunchtime they disapparated to the double-doored entrance of the castle, which at that time of the day, lay in the cool shade, the sun warming the castles back.   
Mr. MacLellan, the owner of the castle, greeted them as heartfelt as old friends and welcomed them excitedly, ushering them in and showing them to their room. His young helper had taken their bag and followed them silently in a discreet distance.  
Their host, who insisted they call him Angus, opened the door to the Master Suit with a sweeping gesture and took his time showing them the grand room, with its spectacular view, and the luxurious bathroom. He pointed out highlights here and there, while the young man, who had long since left, had placed their bag on a side table and with the help of his wand arranged its content neatly in the wardrobe and chest of drawers. 

They had a light lunch and then went over the arrangements for the day after with Mr. MacLellan and his team, after which they turned their attention to tonight’s rehearsal. The key guests, Harry and Ginny, Luna and Neville, and of course, most importantly their master of ceremony, the sex-witch and seer Madam Mauve Paellicio, would all arrive around four.   
The other over-night guests, Hermione’s and Draco’s parents, Scorpius with his girlfriend Marianna, the Potter’s children, Cho, Ron and his current girlfriend would all trickle in in the morning. The remaining guests were simply invited to attend the ceremony mid-afternoon and the party afterwards.   
Luna and Neville, who had a large farm near the muggle town of Cawthorne in the rolling hills of Yorkshire, with a variety of crops like vegetables, fruit as well as cereal. They also held cattle and flocks of sheep and Luna’s passion - a large number of beehives. As Neville was the herbology professor at Hogwarts, the couple had many workers on the farm, as well as employees helping Luna run the business side. They provided some of the produce and meat, as well as honey for the wedding and were thus not only key guests, but essential to the smooth flow of the wedding. Luna was also a magnificent baker and had promised to make the most delicious and gorgeous wedding cake Hermione could ever dream of.   
After their meeting had finished, Angus sheepishly took Hermione to the side, a great smile brightening his naturally joyful face. “Will yea be wanting tae hae a wee keek at the cake?” smiling warmly as he asked.   
Hermione gasped. “Oh yes, please!” she announced cheerfully.  
He winked at her and pulled her along towards the large walk-in fridge in the castle’s kitchen. He opened the heavy door to reveal a classically elegant, round, three-tier, ivory wedding cake, that was simply breathtaking. The bottom and top tiers were decorated tastefully with swirls and flowers in the same ivory coloured icing as the cake itself, as to not divert attention away from its sophisticated simplicity. The center tier was ivory iced, yet had been kept undecorated, except for a wide ivory ribbon placed around its middle. Tiny pearls of icing along the rim of each tier created the illusion of a choker around a woman’s neck.   
Hermione loved it and even Draco’s eyes went wide, who had followed them.   
“Oh my!” she said, her scar pulsing excitedly.   
Draco took her hand and kissed it, while her other remained clasped over her mouth.   
“It’s absolutely lovely,” she whispered after a moment.   
They left the kitchen, where Angus, excused himself.   
Hermione and Draco went for a walk of the castle grounds, having donned hiking boots and taken a camera to capture as much of the beautiful landscape and the weekend of their wedding as possible.   
They didn’t return until well past four to find Harry and Ginny, Luna and Neville deep in conversation with Mauve on the sunny terrace.   
“Hermione! Draco!” Ginny called out and jumped up to greet them, as they stepped out onto the terrace.   
“I’m so sorry, we’re quite late! We got sidetracked taking pictured of everything!” Hermione laughed and then made the rounds of embracing their guests warmly. Draco pulled up two more lounge chairs and ordered drinks for everyone when the young waiter discreetly appeared out of a side door.   
They sat and chatted, the conversation flowing so effortlessly it was a thing of beauty, how they all clicked. Hermione made Luna blush by gushing about the cake and how she could not wait to try it.   
Draco was in the middle of describing the trail they had taken and the views and animals they had seen when Angus joined them with a dram of whisky in hand and ordered his staff to pour generous amounts for everyone.  
“Yer nerves will be shoogily enough as it is. Let’s hae a week break eh, before we head in tae gie it a go, aye?” Angus announced producing a box of cigars by waving his wand and offering the fat Havanas to the group.   
“Wow, don’t mind me if I do,” Draco said, taking one, and both Harry and Neville followed suit. Surprising to everyone, Mauve immediately took up the offer as well and expertly nipped the tip with the provided cutting tool and lit up.   
Luna smiled dreamily and stated what everyone was thinking “I did not expect this from you, Madam Paellicio. Cigars are awfully bad for you. But I suppose on such a special occasion it’s quite alright.” She turned towards Neville and stroked his cheek lovingly. “I know, Love. Just this one,” he promised.   
Luna pulled out her wand and with a small circular motion produced a crystal bowl filled with a variety of mints. Hermione and Ginny giggled and laughed, and the conversation went back to the easy-going chit-chat now including Angus. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

“Here goes nothing,” mumbled Hermione to Ginny, who stood in front of her and giggled girlishly, the effects of the smooth whisky and good company showing its happy face. She could see Draco and Harry waiting in front of the altar of the newly restored, contemporary chapel, with its white walls and window frames and exposed gable trusses.   
Two rows of champagne-coloured chairs with white cushions, each row four chairs deep, created the long walk down the aisle.  
As the music set in, Ginny counted to the appropriate number they had agreed upon and then took her first step, leading the way for Hermione.   
It must have been the whisky, but Hermione felt as if she was not walking at all, but rather floating towards the men, staring blankly at the back of Ginny’s head, sweat suddenly pouring, her heart thudding rapidly, her breath catching, silently gasping for air. She hardly noticed her knees buckling, stumbling, groping for Ginny, but not quite being able to reach her.   
Draco had kept his gaze on Hermione, the woman he loved so deeply, watching her walk down the aisle towards him. Even before he noticed the colour draining from her beautiful features, he felt a fierce and painful stab in his scar and immediately set in motion to aid her.  
Ginny, who had just kept walking unknowingly, was startled as Draco suddenly sprinted towards her. Hermione didn’t usher a sound as she went down, Draco running up the aisle, alarmed, pushing Ginny unceremoniously out of the way and catching Hermione just before she hit the floor.   
Ginny screeched in shock and immediately called for help, water, and cool compresses. Harry was there, helping Draco to position Hermione comfortably, conjuring up a stack of pillows to place under her feet for elevation.   
Neville had begun to open the windows of the chapel and Luna knelt beside her to fan cool, early-evening air to her face.   
Draco was at a complete loss, kneeling by her left side, holding her hand, wiping damp hairs out of her face, and speaking to her in a low voice. She had gone ashen, her eyes a vacant look about them, unseeing, not registering anything at all.   
Ginny meanwhile had gotten some cold wet towels and dabbed at her forehead, kneeling on the opposite side of Luna, up by Hermione’s head. Luna had conjured a pick-me-up potion and was now carefully dabbing it on Hermione’s lips.   
Mauve knelt down beside Draco and whispered into his ear. “Connect to her. She needs you. I can feel it. Her aura is changing.”   
Draco shifted his gaze back to Hermione. “Of course!” he said, feeling stupid for not thinking of it himself. He began to softly caress Hermione’s scar, then placed his own forearm over hers, marks touching.   
Slowly she came to, seeing him again, recognizing her surroundings.   
“There she is,” Ginny said relieved, smiling.  
“What happened, Love?” Draco asked quietly, not able to keep the deep concern out of his voice, as he bent down to kiss her gently.   
“I don’t know…” Hermione whispered and ran a clammy hand over her face. She tried to sit up and came to rest against Draco’s body, with Ginny holding out a glass of cool water to her, which she took with trembling hands. She slowly brought the glass to her lips and took tentative sips.   
She lay her head back against Draco’s shoulder, grabbing his hand and curling his arm around her, needing him to hold her secure.   
“You’re safe,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her temple. “You’re safe.”  
After a few moments of slow recovery Angus appeared with a steaming cup of tea.   
“Angus… thank you,” she said looking up at him, taking the cup with both hands.   
He smiled endearingly. “It’s the nerves, lassie, they must be jangling. Happens awe the time. Dinnae fash, just dinnae worry yer wee heid.”  
She smiled back embarrassed, but grateful to be in such fantastic company. “Thank you,” she said into the group of friends.   
They all sat quietly on the floor for a little while longer, recovering from the shock.   
Angus announced after a little while, that he had had a fire prepared and blanket brought out. There was tea for everyone on the porch and if they’d care to relocate to the outdoors for some fresh Scottish air.   
Draco, taking no chances, but under great protests of Hermione, carried her outside and set her down on the comfortable lounge two-seater. He positioned her to recline against him, covering her with a blanket, holding her tight.   
Thankfully, the conversation wasn’t forced, but as before, came easy and soon they were laughing again.   
“I was thinking,” Mauve mused, when the group had fallen silent and everyone was watching the fire crackle and spark. Sitting up and scooting to the front of her seat Mauve blew steam off her cup she held in both hands, putting her elbows on her knees. That youthful move made the elderly witch even more likeable. “We’ve got to change the flow.”  
“Change the flow?” Harry asked bewildered.  
“Ooh! That sounds lovely,” Luna said excitedly.  
“Changing the flow is often quite beneficial,” Neville agreed knowingly.  
“The way we’ve got it set up,” Mauve went on, “the traditional way… I feel it puts too much strain on Hermione.” She paused for a brief moment, looking over at Hermione and Draco. “We must always strive to meet the couple’s needs, not pleasing the guests or insisting on sticking with traditions.”  
“I quite agree,” said Draco, and Hermione nodded her consent as well.   
“Sounds great,” offered both Ginny and Harry.   
“Always listen to your heart, I say,” announced Luna in her dreamy way.   
“I suggest Ginny and Harry,” addressing the Potters, “you wait with me at the altar. Draco himself will guide Hermione down the aisle. It will show their bond to all present, but most importantly it will help to calm them.”  
Mauve hadn’t yet finished speaking, that tears streamed down Hermione’s face. Tears of such relief. She felt a huge burden lift off her shoulders and to conceal her embarrassment, she covered her face and had a good cry for a bit, Draco wrapping her in his arm, kissing her hair, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and waited for the sobs to subside. They did after a while and she blew her nose noisily and to everyone’s amusement, which lifted her mood considerably.   
“Thank you,” Hermione said, untangled herself out of Draco’s hold, got up carefully and went to hug Mauve deeply. “Why didn’t I think of that?!”  
The friends enjoyed the evening by the fire for a long time, Angus joining them when the sky was nearly black, the moon shining brightly and millions of stars sparkling overhead.   
Eventually, Draco felt Hermione’s head on his shoulder getting heavier and her breathing slowing. She had fallen asleep. He made a silent gesture to the others, that is was time for the couple to retire, earning waves and smiles and kisses blown.   
Draco picked Hermione up, wrapped in their blanket and carried her to their room.


	17. Chapter 17

17  
Hermione woke early. Dawn had barely broken, no birds were chirping just yet. It had rained overnight, and torn clouds moved lazily across the indigo sky. They hadn’t bothered to pull the curtains close last night. Draco lay on his side facing her, his breathing slow and deep, peaceful. She watched him for a while, taking in his features in the dark. Her breakdown the evening before had rattled her more than she cared to admit. She had dreamed of fire, warm and comforting. She’d stood by the fire so close, nearly touching, reveling in its heat, feeling old fears passing and new joy and deep love entering. Then Draco had come up to her from behind, embracing her, taking her hands and wrapping their arms around her body. They watched as the fire encircled them, bonding them with heat and golden light. That’s when she’d woken up.  
She reached out and ever so gently touched his hair, smiling as she did so. As quietly as she could without disturbing his sleep, she slid out from under the warm duvet and tip toed to the wardrobe. She found the thick cardigan she knew she’d be needing for the chilly temperatures of Scottish mornings and evenings and pulled it on. Without making a sound she slipped into the en-suit bathroom, brushed her teeth in the semi-darkness and splashed luke-warm water on her face.   
She grabbed her muggle mobile phone off the chest of drawers and stepped over to the window to witness the slim pastel lining at the horizon growing ever wider. With a loving look towards Draco and a smile on her lips, she silently closed the door to their room behind her in hopes of finding some tea. In the carpeted hall she spoke a quiet Lumos, causing the tip of her wand to light up and crept down the stairs towards the kitchen. A shaft of light shone underneath the kitchen door and she heard voices quietly talking.   
Tentatively she knocked, before carefully pushing the door open and squinting against the light.   
She must have looked funny, the way she screwed up her face against the glare, for Angus started to laugh heartily and came towards her in a warm good morning embrace. “Whit are yea dain’ up sae early, lass?”  
Returning his hug, she smiled happily, “I suppose I was just done sleeping for now.”  
“Better tae hae a wee forty winks afore the wedding later.”  
“I promise,” she said. “Goodness, what smells so good?”  
“Ma fresh, out of the oven crusty rolls wie our ain creamy butter. Ian here’s making his special porridge tae. It’s a must tae try it, he sweetens it wie Luna’s honey and it’s the best there is.”  
“I haven’t had porridge in ages… can I have some tea, though first?”  
“Aye, of course lass! Here, sit yersel’ doon,” he pulled out a chair from under the rustic kitchen table and steered her towards it.   
The tea was lovely, hot and fragrant, and it lifted her spirits further still, as Angus placed a single macaron on a tiny porcelain dish in front of her.   
“Can yea guess its flavour?”  
“Oh my,” she said. “Let’s see.” She picked up the beautiful cream coloured treat, brought it to her nose and her eyes went wide. “Could it be?” she asked, looking up at Angus, who grinned at her expectantly.   
“Try it! Try it.” He urged.  
Taking a small bite and letting the flavours hit her taste buds, she marveled at the smooth texture and divine tea flavour. “Earl Grey,” she stated.  
Ian grinned and Angus folded his arms across his chest. “Yer a bright wee scone, aren’t yea lassie,” he winked at her.   
The men set to work again, continuing their preparations for breakfast and the coming wedding feast, while Hermione watched fascinated, trying to stay out of the way, chatting with them merrily.  
The next one to stumble quietly into the kitchen an hour later was Mauve. Hermione immediately noticed how Angus seemed to puff up like a rooster, his already cheery self, became nearly embarrassingly sweet and charming, not to say cheesy.   
Angus had lost his wife a decade earlier and clearly seemed to miss romance in his life. In turn Mauve seemed quite receptive to his charms.   
With Love filling the air all around her, Hermione sat back, pulled her knees up, placing her feet on the chair watching romance unfold and her own wedding being prepared. It was an almost spiritual experience to let go, relinquishing control, letting things happen in their own way and time. Simply watching.   
Mauve, being able to read Hermione like an open book, glanced at her with a loving smile every now and then, not forcing her to engage in the conversation, allowing her the peace she needed, a tranquil and content solitude amongst friends.

It was nearly eight when Draco shuffled into the kitchen, his hair a mess, which everyone commented on. He felt abused he said good-naturedly.  
Adjacent to the kitchen was a large dining room with a long table in the middle of it. Two double French doors offered beautiful views of the castle grounds and the in-ground firepit further out towards woods, where they’d all sat around the night before.   
Angus expertly involved everyone, including the happy couple to be wed today, to set the table, arrange all the breakfast foods on the two tall sideboards along the opposite wall of the double doors. Meanwhile everyone had woken up in various stages of readiness for the day, but all casual and happy to help.   
Harry carried a large jug of orange juice from the kitchen to the dining room, his hair competing wildly with Draco’s for first place of best bed hair.   
Luna set out an array of her honeys with beautifully handcrafted honey dippers in assorted wood types.   
Ginny placed trays of black pudding, sausages and bacon on the side boards, while Mauve kept Angus company in the kitchen making more tea and coffee.   
Neville helped Hermione and Draco to set the table for eleven including Angus and Ian, as well as the two women working with them. Sera, a young witch around Ian’s age, who he clearly held a close watch over, and Caitlin an older, plump Scottish beauty with rosy cheeks and a hearty laugh. The chatter now lively, throwing common Hotel behaviour to the wind they grazed off the proffered food like hungry wolves.   
Porridge, syrups and homemade jams, berries and beans, golden butter and Luna’s honey’s, eggs made to order by Caitlin or Ian (whoever got to the kitchen first), thick slices of bacon, juicy sausage links and of course mountains of Angus’ crusty rolls.   
Both sets of double doors stood open to let in the fresh Scottish Highland air, cool and crisp, waking them properly.   
They took their time enjoying this enormous feast, so that is was nearly ten when they heard the honk of a car horn from the castle’s driveway.   
“That’s Mum and Dad!” Hermione shouted and jumped up, her napkin falling off her lap onto the floor. She rushed out to greet them, throwing her arms around her parents, kissing their cheeks. Draco had followed her out as well as Angus and Ian.   
“It’s so good to finally have you here,” Draco said, shaking Mr. Grangers hand and hugging him at the same time.   
“We should’ve just closed the surgery yesterday,” Mrs. Granger said, shaking her head. “We got in two emergencies yesterday and didn’t get to leave until well past two!”   
“We made it to Perth last night, but couldn’t go on any longer, we nearly fell asleep at the wheel,” Mr. Granger said apologetically.   
“I’m so sorry we’re so later my darling angel,” hugging his daughter once more.   
“You’re fine, Dad,” she assured him, taking his hand and pulling him inside, while Draco escorted her mother.   
Ian and Angus busied themselves, parking their car and bringing their luggage to their room, a lovely large room with a King-size bed and a view of the mountains in the distance.   
Caitlin had brought forth more chairs and the chatter grew louder yet, as Mr. and Mrs. Granger entered the dining room. Harry and Ginny jumped up to embrace and double-cheek-kiss the newcomers warmly.   
Eventually the other overnighters trickled in, first the Potters’ kids, Albus and his girlfriend Marianna, James and Lilly, shortly after that Ron and Romilda, followed by Cho. 

As the clock crept closer to noon, Hermione felt herself growing more and more nervous. She kept fidgeting around, getting up, without aim, pacing the room and sitting back down having accomplished nothing. Her heart was beating in her throat and kept taking little sips of her water, as her mouth had gone dry (again), which naturally caused her having to go to the loo all the time. It caught everyone’s attention and soon Ginny, Cho and Hermione’s mum, led her back upstairs where Ginny drew a calming potion from her own kit. Her mum sat with Hermione, while the latter tried to control her nerves, gratefully accepting the potion. Hermione crawled under the thick duvet, with her head on her mum’s lap, who sat beside her, resting against the headboard, gently stroking her daughter’s hair and sleep soon took hold of her.   
The potion kicked in far stronger than expected and Hermione did not hear any of the excited scuttling of preparations. Mrs. Granger asked Ginny to hand her her book, not wanting to disturb Hermione’s restful sleep. They still had a few hours before they needed to get ready.   
With her wand Cho directed the dress from the wardrobe to float near the tall mirror. She made sure it was wrinkle-free, while Ginny arranged shoes, nylons and undergarments. They spoke in hushed voices, although Hermione slept so soundly their caution really wasn’t necessary. Mrs. Granger carefully unfolded herself from under Hermione as Ginny and Cho set out everything they would be needing for hair and make-up. Before they left to join the others downstairs again, Mrs. Granger placed a soft kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “My little girl,” she whispered.   
Glancing back at Hermione sleeping, Ginny quietly closed the door behind them and the three of them went to find the others. 

\--X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X--

Hermione woke refreshed to find Draco next to her, watching, smiling.   
“Hi,” he said and came close to kiss her.   
“Hi,” she said, still a bit drowsy. “Are we late, yet?”  
“No, there’s still time.”  
“Okay,” she whispered and turned to spoon against him.   
“Scorpius and my parents arrived a little while ago.”  
“Oh good. I was a bit worried.”  
“They were quite impressed with our choice,” Draco said proudly. “We did good.”  
Hermione smiled and raised Draco’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “We really did.”  
“Are you sure, Love?” he asked after a moment.  
“Am I sure?”  
“Yeah, you know… about…,” he hesitated, looking for words. “the addition.”  
Hermione turned again to face him. “Why do you ask? Aren’t you?”  
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have second thoughts.” He climbed out of bed and rummaged around in one of the drawers, retrieving a small, soft package.   
“What’s this then?” she smiled.  
“Open it.”  
She sat up, crossed her legs and took the bundle he was holding out to her. She carefully pulled on the gold ribbon that held the extra thin silky wrapping paper together and revealed a pair of carefully folded woolen ultra-soft maroon-coloured socks. The socks were bound with a wide band that said: In case of cold feet. I cannot wait to marry you. I love you, Hermione.  
She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes, threating to tumble down her cheeks. “Draco,” she began. “Yes, I am sure!” She got up onto her knees and scooted to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of him and put her arms around his neck. “I am ready.”  
He kissed her, once, twice and then they simply held each other in a warm embrace. “I am ready, too,” he said into her hair.   
“Come on. Let’s do this.” Hermione smiled, as she disentangled herself from her soon-to-be husband, shed the cardigan she hadn’t bothered to take off prior to falling asleep with her mom petting her hair. She pulled the T-Shirt up over her head, undid the bra clasp and dropped everything on the bed, then bent down to push leggings and knickers down her legs, stepped out of her socks and strode into the bathroom in her birthday suit, her bum swaying beautifully as she walked.   
With a lascivious glance over her shoulder, she asked “Coming?”  
“Bloody hell, yes!” he replied and quickly tore his own clothes off and caught up with her, just as she stepped into the warm spray of the large shower.   
Draco followed her and immediately pushed his hand into her hair, pulling her lips towards his. His other hand slid down her back and shifted her against him. Their kiss was urgent and needy, like it had been much too long since the last time, which really was only a few hours earlier after Draco had carried her inside from their evening by the fire. They’d made slow and sensual love then, but this now was a different level of lovemaking. He pushed her back against the cool tiles, grateful for the well-equipped shower. Handles and a built-in bench made it easy and less awkward to keep her from slipping. He lifted her up, his shoulders flexing gorgeously wet as they were, the light hitting his skin just right. He never broke their kiss, and urgently eased her down on him, his need to be one with her overwhelming. Hermione gasped loudly as he immediately began to move with gentle force. She squealed with lust and delight, riding him wildly, moving with him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, the water splashing.   
“I can’t wait,” he hissed through gritted teeth, pressing his lips against hers again and with a few more hard thrusts, brought her to the point of “right there Draco, right there! Don’t stop now, don’t stop!” and then broke apart, spasming in his embrace. Holding her firmly in place, he came with such force, that he closed his eyes, let his head fall into the nape of her neck, panting and planting tiny kisses.   
The water beat on them for a bit longer before he set her down slowly and fist-bumped her for a shag well done.  
They had just stepped out of the shower and reached for the fluffy towels, when there was a knock on the bedroom door and Ginny peeked her head in.   
“Ready for us, Hermione?” she asked.   
“Give us ten minutes, okay?” Hermione called back.   
“Yeah, alright.” Ginny said, closing the door on herself.   
“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” he whispered as he bent down to kiss her softly.  
“Most definitely,” Hermione whispered back, and Draco planted another peck on her lips and stepped towards the wardrobe.  
He winked at her as he grabbed his suit, which was wrapped with all its accessories in a large garment bag. She blew him one last kiss and he headed out towards Harry and Ginny’s room.

The next few hours passed in a blur and it seemed Hermione didn’t wake up until it was nearly all over.   
The hustle and bustle of getting her ready, hair and make-up, look here, look there, stand up, sit down, turn around. Her friends and mum guiding her down through to castle to the closed double doors of the chapel, Draco looking impeccably, like a dream, waiting for her there. 

Draco felt prouder than he ever did before. Having Hermione as his wife now was his greatest accomplishment in life. He felt taller, securely in place and when he took Hermione’s hand before the great doors to the chapel opened, he felt a sense of peace he had never known before.   
He looked at her, she smiled back at him and with excitement and determination they simultaneously took their first step down the aisle towards their new life together, as the music set in.   
This was it. Draco and Hermione. Together. Hand in hand. Nothing could ever break this bond. 

The murmur of quiet conversations inside, instantly extinguished when the doors opened. They glided down the aisle and vowed in front of all their friends and family to love, respect and obey each other until their last day.   
When Draco slipped her ring on her finger and she did the same in return, her scar sprang to life once again, pulling Hermione out of the dreamy haze and happy as one can be they kissed lovingly to seal their commitment to one another.   
The guests jumped out of their seats and applauded wildly, cheering and laughing along with the newlyweds.  
Lucius and Narcissa were visibly excited and happy for them as well, clapping along with the rest of the crowd and coming over immediately to cheerfully embrace their son and new bride. This was a new experience for them as well and one they seemed to relish in.


	18. Chapter 18

18  
The reception and food were simply wonderful, the Earl Grey Macaron a huge hit and the golden sunshine played its part brilliantly. The fairly small number of guests allowed for an atmosphere rich with joy and well wishes, with laughter and the occasional happy tears and thus thankfully deprived of drama. Even Monsieur Durass, the Flemish diamond dealer from Antwerp, had been able to port-key to the wedding and was now chatting animatedly with Narcissa and Lucius. New friends and business connections seemed to be made even today.   
The guests mingled harmoniously, most well acquainted with each other, toasting with champagne filled coupes, the saucers having been ordered upon special request of the bride and groom.   
The firepit was lit in the late afternoon and the women were seen to don shawls and cardigans matching their dresses.  
Draco helped Hermione into a silk coat of a pinkish-champagne colour, matching the style of her dress exceptionally. She also grabbed a thin scarf, the evening chill creeping up on her.   
The wind had picked up slightly and her hair, which Cho had so masterfully draped into a loose updo, came undone a bit, adding to the romance of her look, with strains falling into her glowing features.   
She had received many compliments and was grateful to have chosen simple flowers, rather than a vail or an audacious tiara. Cho had placed delicate white and pale-pink Persian Buttercups with tiny green centers here and there into her hair and with the help of her wand, made sure they stayed secure. Which they did, considering the wind.  
Mauve was holding on to Angus’ elbow, standing close to him and talking vividly with Cho and Seamus, who also seemed to have plucked up the courage to give in to their mutual attraction.   
It was just past half past seven when the sky grew dimmer and turned pastel with beautiful hues of pinks and blues and yellows with a glorious rim of gold. Draco caught Mauve’s glance and with an imperceptible nod indicated it was time for the next step.   
“Ready?” Draco murmured into Hermione’s ear.   
She turned towards him, away from Scorpius and Marianna, who they had been talking to about the remodel of their house on Malfoy Estate. “I am.”  
Mauve let go of Angus and came towards them, taking Hermione by the hand and guided the couple towards the fire.   
She touched her neck with her wand to enhance her voice loud enough for all the guests to hear, even the ones who had ventured towards the forest.   
“Friends,” she said. “please join us by the fire.”   
It took a few minutes for everyone to gather round, some holding small plates with food, some drams of whisky, some simply holding on to their loved one.   
“Hermione and Draco,” she began, speaking much softer now that the guest had gathered closely, “would like you to witness a transformation they have chosen to undertake.”   
An excited murmur ran through the crowd, but quickly quieted down.   
“As you all know, there’s good in everything. Together, the three of us have come up with a solution to change the marks of their past and transform them into something beautiful and eternal,” Mauve went on. “Step closer, you two. Right here by the fire, Loves.”   
Draco and Hermione removed their overcoats and stepped close to the fire, its heat warming their backs and creating a fantastic flickering silhouette around them. Mauve drew a silk ribbon from the end of her wand and loosely bound their left arms together, their hands holding on to the others’ elbow, so that their marks touched. This simple act caused Hermione to gasp and Draco to release a guttural grown.   
For the onlookers it was rather cringy to witness the effect the touching of their scars had on them.  
“Shhhh…” Mauve breathed, calming their nerves with her warm voice. Placing her hand on their bound arms, she smiled encouragingly.   
“Keep your eyes focus on each other you two,” she instructed lovingly, her words carried softly to their captivated audience. “Inhale …,” she whispered drawing a slow, long breath in to guide the couple along. “… and exhale …” with that, Mauve now began a sort of chanted murmur, which reminded one once more of Professor Trelawney.   
Her eyes closed, she swayed silently like a conductor directing an orchestra, her wand moving through the air, the long incantations creating a crackling energy field. Spells long forgotten and scarcely used in modern times.   
Yet the magic came to life as if never put to rest, palpable, so that even Mr. and Mrs. Granger scooted forward in their seats.   
Hermione and Draco stood facing each other, the ancient words coursing through their veins, finding the marks, warming them, tingling.   
With a sudden crescendo of shimmering light emanating from the couple Mauve whispered, “it is nearly done…”   
Her faraway look had gone, her eyes clear and focused again.   
The ribbon fell away as if on cue and with a surprised and happy giggle a “Wow!” escaped Hermione’s lips. “Look!” she said and caught Draco’s approving glance.   
“It looks fantastic!” he agreed.   
They slid their hands over the newly made marks, which Mauve had modified into identical Triquertas, the Celtic symbol of eternity, maintaining its opaque shimmery viscosity as well as its qualities of connection between them.   
The marks looked like silver tattoos.   
“A toast to Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy!” Mauve exclaimed and the crowd cheered and raised their glasses in celebration.   
Hermione and Draco both beamed, radiating unconditional Love.


	19. Chapter 19

Epilogue  
The over-night guests had been asked in advance if they wanted to spend the day after the wedding, Sunday, with the newlyweds, hiking or fishing in the beautiful Highland surroundings of the castle. Nearly everyone had opted to stay longer, except for Lilly Potter, who wanted to return to Hogwarts. End-of-term exams were being written soon. She was a fantastic student and wanted to finish her final year with flying colours.   
One extra guest had remained. Seamus, who had shared Cho’s room (and the Gate House with Ron and Romilda), now clung sickeningly to Cho. Hermione was happy for her friend. Cho had been waiting for this for so very long. And Hermione knew they would both work hard to make it last.   
Breakfast had been an equally undemanding, trouble-free affaire in the castle’s large kitchen as the previous morning, again with guests trickling in in various stages of dishevelledness. Of course, Narcissa was neat as a pin, already impeccably made up and dressed in an outdoor-style outfit of black walking trousers and a fitted white blouse with emerald green buttons. Her initials had been embroidered just above her heart on a tiny pocket in the same green shade. A small silky scarf with a white, green and black pattern of flowers and swirls, with silver thread woven within completed her look.   
Albeit the fairly early hour of not quite half eight, everyone was happily chatting at the long table. Much tea and coffee was poured, before everyone headed out only to meet again half an hour later outside the castle, from where they started their excursions for the day. 

Draco and Hermione felt blissfully lucky to be surrounded by such a wonderful group of friends and family.   
Although the marks were now beautiful to look at and admire, they would never forget the lessons taught by their old scars.


End file.
